


Ilaurënda - The Golden Heart

by Artfreak201



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Alternate universe thorin fili and kili live, Dragons, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-11-28 10:45:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artfreak201/pseuds/Artfreak201
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is something else that Bilbo Baggins finds next to the Arkenstone, there in the chamber of the great dragon. Something looking like an uncut yellow gem larger than the Heart of the Mountain, but not nearly as flawless as the Arkenstone, and all the while it was emitting strange warmth.  He does not know its origin or what it is in the slightest, but he decides to name it the Heart of Smaug, as he steals the precious gems away with the roar of the beast behind him. After the battle of five armies he quickly finds out that his decision to take that gem to have very well saved the lives of all his precious dwarves, and now he finds that his adventure is not done, like he had thought it to be. Later he calls it Ilaurënda, The Golden Heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Golden Heart of Smaug

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy this. I'm not an experienced writer by any means, so updates will likely NOT be regular, but I will try and keep up with this fic.
> 
> Suggestions for events, themes, etc. are more than welcome! I'd love to hear new ideas and I will credit you in the chapter your suggestions appear if I use them (no matter if I use one sentence or the entire chapter!)
> 
> This is a hinted Thorin / Bilbo fiction, I'm not very good at writing love stories or heavy romance, so fluff is all you will get most likely, sorry! I will leave some areas open to interpretation and if you wish to write a filler for that interpretation by all means do so! Just credit me please. 
> 
> I am an artist and will be drawing concepts and sometimes scenes for this fiction, although other interpretations are welcome! I have a very clear idea of how Ilaurënda looks though, and just need to tweak small aspects. I will try to get this finished by the end of next week.
> 
> This will probably be the longest author note I post since it is the first, so I apologize if it throws off the word count! Have a good one :)
> 
> Warning, Rating MAY CHANGE! I put it as Teen and up to be careful.
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: There is now a Cover Page for this story, done by myself! Although I welcome any and all fanart. :) I love to see your interpretations!  
> Cover Page: http://valkyryn.deviantart.com/art/The-Golden-Heart-Cover-Page-354325389

Smaug had sought out the lonely Mountain for the dwarfs' glorious treasures, piles of gold and gems and that beautiful gleaming Arkenstone. Smaug was a powerful drake and while he preferred solitude, every drake needs to pass on his power. Before he wrought his wrath upon the mountain, he found a female drake to bear his egg. Frightfully small things are drake eggs, just a mite bigger than a human or dwarfs head, much smaller than a dragon scale. Drakes grew exponentially over the course of several thousands of years, but the eggs take decades to finish forming, and to hatch. Each drake's growth rate is individual, but every drake grows large enough to occupy a mountain if they so desire to claim one. Smaug is a prideful and greedy drake, and rather than see the female raise his spawn he steals the egg away after she has laid it, tucking it safely away in between a few scales, using it to shield his weak spot and keep it warmed by his body heat. The Lonely Mountain was also to be his nest, and after he warded off the dwarf pestilence he coiled himself in and under the piles of gold, the metal soaking up his radiated head and creating a perfect environment for his precious egg to incubate. Yes, this was his true reason for choosing the Lonely Mountain. Atop the pile of gold in which he circled, the Arkenstone and his precious flower yellow egg rested, in the center of his protective ring.

The awakening of Smaug was not what Bilbo had expected, nor was the battle of five armies that followed mere days after the mountain was reclaimed. Thorin, Fili and Kili were all three in a massive tent, each tenderly laid out on furs and being minded by at least one healer each. Bilbo stood at the entrance of the tent, eyes watching as Thorin coughed up blood to be wiped away by a white rag in a healer's hand. He stood there, fingers worrying over the bumpy surface held under a blanket, warmth radiating from the bundle the size of his head. It was nothing like the Arkenstone, but it definitely was a treasure of the mountain, and Bilbo gave a soft puff of air in defeat.

He hoped that Thorin would forgive him for his betrayal, he still had no clue where the Arkenstone was at this time, likely Bard or Thranduil still held the precious fist sized jewel. Puffing up his chest a bit and trying to tell himself he could face his king, Bilbo strode forward, the gem pressed to his chest seeming to pulse a bit with his determination. The healer at Thorin's bedside looked at Bilbo for a moment, and then slowly nodded, doubt lingering in his movements. Bilbo sighed again, and looked down at Thorin to find the dwarf king already gazing at him.

"Th-thorin, I…" Bilbo started, but at Thorin's unwavering look he could do little but sputter. Wincing and screwing his eyes shut, he gingerly held out the bound gem. For a moment he swore he heard a chirp…He shook it off when he felt a hand touch one of his.

"What is this…Bilbo?" Thorin asked weakly. The hobbit opened his eyes slightly.

"I...Honestly I am not quite sure, I found it next to the Arkenstone when I stole it away from Smaug, it was so beautiful and unique that I thought to take it as well…" Bilbo muttered slowly, not sure how his gift would be taken.

"Why do you bring this to me?" the dwarf mumbled softly, his hand on Bilbo's shaking slightly. Bilbo drew a deep breath, tucking the gem close to him thus removing Thorin's hand from his. He regretted the lost contact instantly, but he had to hold the gem close in order to unbind it. It was a great amount larger than the Heart of the Mountain, though not nearly as flawless. He drew the corner of the ragged blanket from the gem, the cloth dropping to his feet as he held the uncut gem delicately. Thorin's eyes lit up and he spent a minute in a coughing fit, waving away the healer that came rushing over.

"Bilbo that is no gem you hold." Thorin growled darkly, coughing once again. Bilbo sputtered a little.

"Not a gem? Well what on earth-" He was interrupted by that chirping noise again and a pulse of warmth came from the – gem? Rock? A soft tapping noise filled the tent, and the healers tending to Fili and Kili looked over curiously. Both boys were asleep, Fili's head bound and his eyes covered, no one knew if he would ever wake from his injury.

"That, my dear hobbit is a drake egg." Echoed the deep chuckle from the tent entrance. Bilbo glanced over to find Gandalf leaning heavily on his staff, and Beorn in human guise standing behind him. Bilbo started.

"A- A drake's egg?!" Bilbo thought he might just faint, if not for the soft cooing sound that came from his arms, followed by that tapping noise. Gandalf smiled fondly.

"Why yes, a drake's egg, Smaug's egg in fact. It seems his choosing of Erebor to claim was not merely for the treasures within. A nest of gold and gems is the perfect environment in which to incubate a drake egg." Gandalf explained, taking a stand next to Bilbo, a hand reached out of layers of grey cloth to rest on the golden object.

"And it seems that had we waited one year more to take our quest, we would have failed!" Gandalf scoffed, withdrawing his hand with mild disgust. Bilbo looked up at him curiously, glancing back to Thorin for a moment.

"And why is that, Gandalf?" he asked quietly. Gandalf seemed to roll his eyes at the hobbit.

"Because that egg is hatching, now." The wizard said rather bluntly, promptly turning and leaving. Beorn still stood at the mouth of the tent.

"Little bunny, be careful with that egg. It knows you now. You will have to raise the drake, be its mother. The wizard left for all our sakes. That drake can't be exposed to magic like his, cannot be raised here either. Too much greed, the drake will go mad and kill us." Beorn rumbled, crossing his arms firmly. Bilbo swallowed, and looked at Thorin. The dwarf looked solidly back at him, causing Bilbo to sigh for the umpteenth time that day.

"Well then I suppose I'll have to take it somewhere more peaceful, won't I?" Bilbo stated solemnly. Beorn gave a rough nod in return.

"You may raise it with me, if you have no other place in mind." Beorn said dismissively, bowing his head and leaving the tent behind. Bilbo ran a hand along the top curve of the egg, a soft bump hit underneath his palm.

"What will you do, burglar?" he heard Thorin ask. Bilbo shrugged.

"I'm not sure, actually. The concept of raising a drake is rather shocking. Knowing it would need to be raised away from magic and wealth…" Bilbo trailed off. Thorin seemed to nod knowingly.

"No young drake has been raised by the people of middle earth, before." Thorin started, taking a pause to breathe deeply. A healer looked over with some concern, but Thorin waved a hand and the healer calmed.

"Gandalf has told me tales, however, of the days when a wizard would steal away a drake egg in the hopes that he could raise the powerful being to protect the people of the west rather than hunt them. He told me how the wizards failed; the dragons wanted the wizards' magic powers and slew them in greed. The presence of wealth would create another Smaug, when we only just rid ourselves of him." The dwarf lamented dully. Bilbo gave a slight smile.

"It would not do to have your mountain claimed by another drake so soon. Perhaps the ways of a hobbit will tame this little one? I would hope so, though it is a daunting task." The hobbit chuckled, petting the warm egg. He was unsure of what to do. He had hoped to present the gem – now egg – to Thorin as a peace offering. A frown reached his face.

"What makes you frown, burglar?" Bilbo winced.

"This was supposed to be my peace offering to you…A repayment for the Arkenstone. Now I have no choice but to leave, or risk your kingdom being lost once again." Bilbo answered sadly. Thorin chuckled deeply.

"And here I was trying to find a way to make you forgive me." Bilbo sputtered, confused.

"Me? Forgive you? Whatever for? I'm the one who gave the Arkenstone to Bard and the elves, your greatest treasure…" the hobbit murmured. A hand rested on top of his.

"Bilbo, my treasure means nothing compared to my family. Fili and Kili are dying…And so am I." was the whispered answer. Bilbo stared at Thorin in shock.

"Y-you can't be dying, Thorin! You don't seem unwell at all…" Bilbo panicked. Thorin's head shook slowly, and Bilbo saw a line of blood seeping from the corner of the dwarf's mouth. The hobbit looked at the blanket over Thorin's chest; a red stain had begun to seep through the cloth.

"H-healer! Come help, please!" Bilbo yelled, placing the egg carefully but quickly on the fur next to Thorin. Said dwarf proceeded to go into a coughing fit that made the color drain from Bilbo's face. The dwarf healer came over and Thorin shoved them away roughly.

"I do not need your aid! Heal my nephews before me! I have proven I have no right to rule…I succumbed to the greed of my fathers before me, they should not suffer any more for my mistake!" Thorin roared, gasping in pain and clutching his ribs. Bilbo stood there shaking, unsure of what to do. Then his decision was answered for him as more healers came to the dwarf king, holding him down and tending to his chest wounds. The hobbit glanced to Fili and Kili – both had two or three healers each, and they looked stable. The healers would have nothing of Thorin's attempts at letting himself die. As the healers started talking loudly to each other, the soft cracking and tapping went unnoticed on the edge of the tent, until a shriek filled the tent – healers and hobbit alike froze. Bilbo looked around frantically, until his eyes laid on the remainder of the egg – and the soft gold and green creature sitting among the broken shell. A gasp left his lips as emerald eyes looked confidently back at him. For a moment it seemed the entire world had paused, and Bilbo took a step towards the small, fragile creature. Then chaos erupted.

"Dragon!"

Dwarfs screamed and the healers stood protectively around king and heirs alike, and Bilbo found himself running in front of the tiny creature, barely the size of a cat. Several guards tried to enter the tent at once, the support beams creaking their disagreement. Shouts and yells continued about and the dwarf guards growled and attempted to move past Bilbo. The hobbit would not budge.

"No, No! You will not harm this little thing! It hasn't done anything to you!" Bilbo squeaked, arms open as a guard brandished an axe at him.

"St-stand down…" Thorin ordered weakly, a healer wrapping fresh bandages around his chest. Bilbo caught a glimpse of the mush of flesh underneath, a chill going up his spine. Shaking himself from the temporary distraction, Bilbo turned around and scooped up the tiny creature, and much to his surprise the little thing gave a soft mewl and nuzzled into his neck. He examined it for a moment – to his surprise it was all flesh and no hard scales or horns. There were fleshy spikes sticking out from its spine, flexing and curling slightly. It had a long whip-like tail with a spade at the end, much like Smaug had. The wings had no webbing, so perhaps the webbing would later grow in along with horns and scales. One of his hands found the top of the creatures head, and he felt two nubs behind the eye-ridges. Future horns, maybe. The precious little bundle curled its neck back, and those great big green eyes stared at him intently. He found himself staring back, as if his soul were being searched. From nothing he heard a voice, speaking in an old tongue he couldn't understand. He struggled to make sense of the rapid speech in his mind before the voice stopped altogether, and upon one word which then he spoke.

"Ilaurënda…"

The little drake seemed to smile at him then, closing its eyes and nodding slowly. Bilbo creased his brows.

"Is that your name, little one?" he found himself whispering curiously. He was surprised when the tiny thing nodded again, flicking a forked tongue along his nose. He gave out an energized titter, probably sounding quite mad.

"Ilaurënda is of an old tongue…Few speak it anymore." Came a sing song voice from behind the dwarf guards. Bilbo looked out and found Legolas and Thranduil standing side by side, Legolas' brow furrowed in thought. Thranduil raised a brow speculatively.

"It is old Quenya, and it means 'The Golden Heart'. Fitting, I believe, for the heart of the dragon that plagued the Lonely Mountain." Thranduil commented dryly. Bilbo looked again at the little drake clutched to his chest. It eyed him playfully. The voice assaulted his mind again as the drake's eye turned to Thorin, and Bilbo let out a yelp as the dragon bounced from his arms and rather lightly next to the dwarf king, who simply let out a pained cough. The dwarf glared at the reptile at first, his hatred for Smaug still fresh. Bilbo went to grab the drake but the voice lashed out in his mind loudly and he gave a pained cry, holding his head. When he looked at the drake again it was looking back at him sadly. It looked over to Thranduil and the elf king gave a small glare and scoff.

"You have little experience with drakes, Master Baggins. That voice you are hearing is the voice of the drake, and it is in Quenya until the drake learns the tongue of man. The drake has not so kindly… requested that I tell you it is a female, and her power is the ability to heal." Thranduil drawled, an annoyed twitch barely present by one eye. Bilbo's mouth gaped open rather indignantly in front of the elven king.

"A girl drake that can heal…?" Bilbo's mind slowly put the two facts together and he looked over at it – her! – sitting by Thorin. The little dragon seemed to chirp at him in a laughing manner, before she crawled onto Thorin's shoulder, startling the dwarf king to lying back down with a gasp of pain as her small paws touched his wounds. Once he was lying down completely she moved to sit on top of his chest, staring at him intently. The dwarf king returned the stare, while not angrily, not with a lot of kindness either. With a dragon sitting on your broken and mangled chest would you be very happy to be having a staring contest? For several long minutes this seemed to drag on, Bilbo was just about to start worrying at his nails if something didn't change.

After what seemed like an eternity in the pregnant silence, Thorin's eyes closed and the little drake pressed her forehead to his. A soft green light came from her delicate little fingers and toes which stood firmly on top of Thorin's gravely wounded body. The light did not seem to expand so much as it grew, like the roots of a tree finally having found water. The tendrils of light slowly turned a sickly red, until there was no green left. The drake then pulled away, blinking at Bilbo owlishly before glancing at Thranduil and back to Bilbo. The elven king gave a soft mutter in sindarin.

"This is the last translation, Ilaurënda. After this you must learn the Westron tongue." Thranduil glowered at the little drake before addressing Bilbo.

"She says she could not heal him anywhere near completely, but she has brought him from the edge of death so the healers may bring him round on their own." The elven king explained quietly. Bilbo gave a whoop of joy before coughing and fixing his coat hem. The elven king seemed then to glare at him.

"You must leave with her this evening. To a place that knows no greed of man or magic of elves and wizards." Thranduil remarked gravely, glancing at his son. Legolas returned the look and stepped forward, bowing slightly.

"I will escort you to your destination, Master Baggins." The prince offered graciously. Thranduil turned then, and left rather abruptly like everyone else seemed to be doing today. Bilbo gave an annoyed huff. Just because there was a young drake didn't mean people could forget their manners! Legolas gave a small smile.

"My father does not like drakes, but he does know a bit about them. He is right, she cannot be raised by men or elves or dwarves or even wizards. I would think your shire or Beorn's may be the only place she could grow into something that would help the west, rather than destroy it. I will follow you to either to ensure your safety, and hers." Legolas chimed, his young voice a blessing on the ears.

Bilbo looked to Thorin, who was sleeping peacefully, the drake still sitting atop his chest. He gave a sigh, and offered an arm to the little drake who eagerly climbed up to perch on his shoulder. He rested the same hand on Thorin's shoulder for a moment, and the king stirred a little then remained deep in slumber. A cough came from the other side of the bed. Bilbo looked up to see the same grouchy healer glowering at him, with three more healers behind him doing the same.

"We'll heal Fili an' Kili up right as rain, Thorin was our real concern. We'll tell him what ye had to do, lad. Best ye hide that dragon under the blanket you brought her egg in. Were anyone see her they'd try to kill her." The healer said quietly, placing his hand over Bilbo's in an assuring manner. The hobbit nodded solemnly.

"Tell him I'll write when I can. I think… I'll be going home for a while."


	2. Not one golden heart, but two.

Bilbo fussed unnecessarily in his meager tent, packing his bag as the dwarfs of the company came to and from, expressing grievances, thanks, or goodbyes. Not many had come, several were still injured and could not make it from their beds (whether this was due to their own inability or the healers not allowing their leave, Bilbo was not sure). At the moment, unfortunately, he did not have the time to find out. Legolas waited outside the tent, and Ilaurënda lay sleeping on what was going to be his bedroll. He supposed someone who needed it much more than he would promptly be put in it as soon as he and the young elf prince left. He gave a heavy sigh as he tied the cords on top of the pack that had been provided to him. An unknown dwarf had shoved it into his arms, the pack already filled with travelling necessities that they could spare. Bilbo had been packing the small belongings he had gathered, along with what Balin had come and told him was a part of his share of the gold.

"Enough to be comfortable in that hole of yours, Laddie. Not so much missy there will turn on ye." Balin had said, with a grim frown on his face. He was one of the few that had come to visit Bilbo, alongside Bofur, Bombur and also Gloin. Bofur and Bombur had come together, assuring Bilbo that the rest of the company was being well taken care of, and the ones that were awake but could not visit had told the two of them to express their goodbyes since they could not. Gloin had come to wish him well, and had the hobbit promise to come back as soon as he could to meet his wife and son, whom Gloin was convinced Bilbo would love. And the hobbit probably would, very dearly. He would just have to deal with one more drake than his contract had mentioned.

"Master Baggins, we must leave soon. If you are packed, we would still have time for you to visit the Oakenshields." Legolas chirped helpfully, his head poking into the tent with a small smile. The elf seemed too keen for his own good. Bilbo gave a small chuckle and nodded, shouldering his pack and gently scooping up the snoozing drake chick. Acting much like a cat would, she rolled around in his arms until she was tucked comfortably, her nose in between two of the buttons of his coat oddly enough. However appropriately un-oddly, she stayed stubbornly asleep.

'Probably wore her poor little self out healing Thorin…' Bilbo thought to himself. Albeit a tasking one, the chick was definitely a miracle, one that Bilbo was not going to second guess or chance ruining. If he had to sacrifice his life to ensure that Thorin Oakenshield lived to rule as King under the Mountain as he was meant to, well by all means this respectable hobbit would do just that! Nodding to himself, Bilbo turned and practically strutted up to the young archer.

"Yes, I am ready young prince. Thank you, by the way. It would be an awfully lonely journey back to the shire. Do you have someone to ensure you will make it back to the Greenwood?" Bilbo asked curiously, an eyebrow raised as the pair began to walk across the stone littered ground. Legolas seemed happy no matter the atmosphere, at least now. The hobbit looked up at him for a moment, also to avoid seeing the splattered and dried blood on the ground.

"I had no preference, if you had some person in mind…" the prince started cautiously, looking down at Bilbo.

"I honestly had no idea, I was just wondering what your father would think of you out traveling on your own. I certainly wouldn't want my child out and about that far from home all alone!" Bilbo guffawed, glancing ahead at the upcoming tents, the largest one in the center of the random cluster of smaller tents being their destination. Legolas gave a small chuckle.

"I would be fine on my own, Master Baggins, and I don't think any of your dwarf companions would be well enough to leave tonight nor want to suffer my presence." The elf replied shortly. Grumpily, Bilbo gave a defeated huff.

"I suppose you are right. But I would have you send correspondence to me the moment you arrive safely in the Greenwood!" Bilbo ordered, waggling a finger as he shifted an arm out from under the chick dozing away in the crook of his elbow. Legolas looked down at him fondly.

"Of course, if that is your wish Master Baggins." Legolas chuckled, bowing his head for a moment – conveniently to avoid a rope that was strung between two tents with drying white rags.

"And about that, you can call me Bilbo, you know." The hobbit grumped, returning his other arm to cradle the reptile.

"Only if you call me Legolas." The prince retorted playfully. Bilbo rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"If you insist, Legolas. Oh Thorin would pitch a fit if he knew we were on first name basis. Imagine it! He'd be spitting fire like this one's Pa." Bilbo laughed loudly. Legolas held back the flap of the tent.

"I believe he would pitch more of one if I were to enter with you as you said your goodbyes. I shall wait here, Bilbo. But keep in mind we mustn't tarry too much longer." Legolas insisted gently. Bilbo nodded and took a deep breath before ducking into the tent. Much to his surprise, as he had been expecting to see all three of the Oakenshields asleep, Kili was sitting upright in his pile of furs, watching Fili worriedly.

"Kili, you're awake, oh good!" Bilbo cried, causing a yelp to come from his arms as the little emerald eyed drake was spooked awake. She gave an unhappy chitter and he got a nip on the neck for his excitement. He glared down at the drake as she rolled around in his arms once again, this time lying with her head on his arm so she could view the world ahead of her. Kili gave a startled gasp, looking up at the both of them.

"Bilbo, you're alive!" the dwarf exclaimed, eyes wide. Bilbo hurried over, reaching a hand out to the prince.

"When I was awake last they had told me they couldn't find you or your body…" tears began to leak from the young dwarf's eyes. Depositing the drake on Kili's lap Bilbo pulled the darker haired brother into a gentle hug.

"No, no I am fine…As is your uncle, and your brother. You all will be under the mountain soon enough, as is your right. The three of you are strong, so strong, Kili. And I refuse to cause you grief, no I am perfectly well, I promise you that young one." Bilbo hushed, combing his fingers through the shaggy brown hair. Kili sobbed into his shoulder.

"Fili and I…We didn't agree with Uncle, we didn't want you banished. Has he forgiven you?" Kili sniffled, pulling back some. Bilbo smiled and wiped one of the tears away.

"I believe so; he was not demanding I leave the tent earlier today. You will have to ask him for me when he awakes next. My little friend here has assured he will live, but unfortunately has also assured that I will not be here to make sure the three of you will recover fully." Bilbo replied sadly. The mentioned drake chick was currently digging herself a spot in Kili's lap. The dwarf looked down and gave a yelp.

"That's a dragon! What – Bilbo what is a dragon doing in my lap!" Kili whispered, eyeing her as if she were about to spout flames in his face. Bilbo pulled back, sitting on the edge of the furs.

"I found her egg next to the Arkenstone. I thought it to be a gem, and when the battle happened I had hid it in a little niche on the side of the mountain. When it had finished I went and got the yellow thing. I had meant to give it to Thorin as a peace offering, repayment for giving away the Arkenstone. But she hatched right then and there! Right here in this tent whilst you and your brother slept!" Bilbo chuckled, smoothing back a loose strand of Kili's hair. Kili's eyes had softened, transfixed on the small creature curled in his lap.

"Imagine our luck that she hatched then, and that Thranduil had heard the commotion and knew how to speak the language she was born with! Old Quenya, he had called it I think. She will learn Westron, and perhaps maybe one day she may learn khuzdul if she can return here. But she can heal! Can you imagine that? She hopped right out of my arms and onto Thorin, and I guess put him into a deep sleep and healed the wounds on his chest to the point where the healers could guarantee his life." Bilbo told, the younger brother grinning ear to ear. Bilbo smiled, he loved to see the boys so happy. Then Kili frowned.

"Bilbo…What do you mean, if she can return here? She can't stay?" Kili pleaded softly, a shaking hand rubbing the reptile's soft stomach. Bilbo shook his head.

"Unfortunately, Kili, she can't. And neither can I. As I've come to understand it, she thinks I'm her mother. Father? Oh whichever! She's bonded to me Beorn says, and if any of us want to live, we've either got to kill her which I will not allow, or raise her away from greed, wealth, magic or the cruelty of man. That means I have to go back to the Shire…Alone, and raise her." Bilbo explained quietly, a hand on Kili's shoulder. Kili's eyes watered again.

"But we only just got you back, Auntie!" Kili cried, before slapping both hands to his mouth with wide eyes. Bilbo smiled with mirth.

"Auntie? Well that is a new name for me. Why are you embarrassed young one? I am not. It makes me glad that you think me family, for I consider you mine. You and every single one of the company…All of you are my family." Bilbo's eyes sparkled with mischief for a moment.

"Don't tell anyone, but you and Fili are my favorites!" Bilbo whispered excitedly, earning him a soft laugh from the dwarf prince.

"But you still have to go?" Kili asked sadly. Bilbo nodded.

"I have to leave soon. I came to say goodbye to you all, but Thorin and Fili are still asleep. You shall have to take on the responsibility of telling them for me, alright? Now it's not like I'll be gone forever. I'll try and visit or you can visit me one day, once this little one has grown out of her impressionable age. Goodness knows when that will be though…" Bilbo lamented, looking down at the gold and green coils.

"I don't quite know what to do, really. Gandalf has disappeared, Beorn and Thranduil have both claimed that it is so this little drake doesn't go mad with the lust for Gandalf's magic and kill us all." The hobbit whispered mournfully. Kili gave a small smile.

"Hard to believe something so little as her could kill us all, huh Auntie?" Kili asked softly. Bilbo nodded, pressing a kiss to the top of Kili's head.

"I'm sorry I have to go, Kili. I wish I did not, I had meant to gain your uncle's forgiveness, and eventually… I had hoped…" Kili looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"What is it?" the dwarf coaxed.

"Well I had meant to tell him that I love him…And if a dwarf king like him could ever come to love a meager grocer like myself." Bilbo chuckled, tears welling in his eyes. Bilbo couldn't bring himself to look at Kili, so he looked to the brother across from them with blurring vision.

"I had hoped that the four of us could become a family, or the five of us, when your mother returned from the Blue Mountains, if she liked me anyways. But I wasn't able to tell Thorin… Maybe tis for the best, little one, your uncle has a kingdom to rule. He cannot be distracted by a hobbit who gave away his greatest treasure…" Bilbo sobbed, unable to hold back his tears. He felt a soft flick on his cheek, and found the little golden drake awake and staring at him, her eyes also filled with tears. That old beautiful voice filled his head, and even though he could not understand the words the grief behind the voice was so powerful he could not stand. He fell to his knees, head in Kili's lap as the little drake curled around his neck, a high singing cry filling the air and his head. He felt tear drops on his head and he could only guess that Kili was crying as well. After a few moments Bilbo forced himself back to standing, clutching Kili as tight as he could without hurting him. As he pulled away he held the young dwarf's face in his two hands, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"I love you, Kili. No matter what happens and where I go, know this. You are my boy, no matter who your mother and father are. Mine, you understand? You make sure you and your brother stay well, or it won't be just your mother stripping your hide for getting into trouble!" Bilbo attempted to scold, the tears running down his face and the redness in his nose, ears and cheeks ruining the effect. Kili looked the same, nose running and tear streaming down his cheeks.

"I love you too Auntie. I'll tell Fee, I promise. We'll be good, too. You have to come back though, please! Promise me you'll come back some day!" Kili begged, and who could say no to that face? Bilbo pressed his forehead to the dwarf's.

"I promise you, Kili. I promise you and your brother I will come back some day, as soon as I can, as soon as this little one will let me. If I didn't have to I wouldn't leave. If I don't, she would kill you all, and I can't bear the thought of you precious boys gone from this world." Bilbo cried quietly. Kili hiccupped once and Bilbo smiled.

"I must leave now, or my guardian may become upset. We must get some distance in the few precious hours of sunlight we have from here." The hobbit whispered, running a hand over Kili's hair. Kili nodded, still crying.

"Be safe, Auntie. Write us as soon as you are safe!" Kili demanded, brows furrowing. Bilbo nodded, and gathered up the weeping drake, the voice still keening loudly both in his ears and in his mind. He hushed her for a moment before giving Kili one last squeeze of the shoulder. Unless he left now, Bilbo wouldn't be able to so he forced himself to ignore the sobs behind him, and walked from the tent.

Flat out ignoring Legolas, he headed to where he knew their horse to be. To ride faster and hasten their trip Bilbo would ride in front of Legolas with the drake in his arms. As it was an elven horse it would not tire as quick and Legolas and he would be able to ride through the night on some occasions. As he knew he would do, Legolas was right behind the hobbit, silent thankfully. Bilbo did not wish to explain the tears on his face or the sobs coming from the dragon in his arms. Approaching the horse, it skirted to the side at first, wary of the distressed hobbit and reptile. Legolas soothed the horse before taking Bilbo's pack and attaching it to the horse's saddle bags, then assisting the hobbit into the saddle. Legolas mounted the horse, and then paused. Bilbo looked out at the field of war, the stench of death and blood was heavy and Bilbo was reminded of how close he had come to losing his world. He may never get to love the mighty Thorin Oakenshield as he had hoped he might, but his love and his adoptive sons were alive and safe. That was all that mattered. His sacrifices be damned, they were worth it knowing his family, the boys and the rest of the company as well, were safe.

Taking in the last look at the damage, Bilbo bowed his head, and Legolas spurred the horse into full gallop into the forest. Within moments the stench of decay was behind them. As he looked to the setting sun, Bilbo and Ilaurënda wept freely, the elf staying blessedly silent as he let them wail their grief to the wilderness. It was not Legolas' right to invade the hobbit's privacy, Legolas knew this. So he didn't. He focused on the task at hand – get them as far from the mountain as he could in the first day and night. Then they could rest, once the hobbit and drake had exhausted themselves and recovered from their grief. They would have enough to grieve over in the shire – they had to learn to handle it now and no one but they could teach it to them. Legolas wished he could help them, but the only help he could provide was getting them to peace as fast as he could. He spurred and willed the horse to move faster. For the sake of not one golden heart, but two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being patient with me folks, and thank you for the comments and Kudos! I will do my best to keep up with this fiction. I had planned to write a decent amount more, but I have early classes tomorrow and I decided to end it there, do not worry, it just means you get one more chapter ultimately. :)
> 
> Here is the Reference for Ilaurenda! Done myself, I hope this offers you a clear idea of her.  
> http://valkyryn.deviantart.com/art/Ilaurenda-Reference-352875170


	3. Returning to Bag End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some words in Quenya here. the full translations can be found at the end (as well as where I am getting them from). Any and all mistakes are my own as I don't have (and have never had...) a beta. I haven't the slightest what a beta really does so if someone wants to volunteer that information (or if you would like to be the beta) let me know!

After riding hard the entire night, Legolas deemed them far enough from Erebor that they could rest and eat. Bilbo had fallen asleep after crying for a few hours. The little drake was quiet, but very much awake. Legolas let the horse slow to her own pace, and he rubbed her neck softly to signal her to stop. More than eager to stop, the mare did so and Legolas dismounted, stirring Bilbo awake. The hobbit looked at him blearily.

“Why have we stopped, Legolas?” the sleepy hobbit murmured.

“We have travelled far for the night, and have made good time. We should be back to your shire in a third the time it took your company to reach Erebor. For now, we take a rest. We can begin teaching your friend some Westron, if you’d like.” Legolas suggested as he helped the hobbit off the horse. Legolas didn’t tether her – she would graze on her own and not stray far, she was a well-trained war horse. Bilbo mumbled agreement and set to gathering some wood for a fire as Legolas gathered a few things from the mare’s packs. The dragon kept close to Bilbo, trailing like a puppy at his feet, even trying to help by picking up a stick in her mouth far too heavy for her frail neck. Legolas gave a small chuckle as she dragged it along behind Bilbo, and when they passed by him he snatched up the drake and stick alike, removed it from her maw. As she chittered at him angrily he spoke in the tongue she knew.

“~That is a bit large for you little one. I suggest you try something smaller next time. Smaller~, Small.” He repeated the word in Westron with emphasis. He set her down, and as Bilbo approached them he handed the stick to the hobbit. He looked to her again.

“Small, Laurë. Náto – Yes?” Legolas chided gently. Bilbo watched with amazement as Laurë gave a nod.

“Cinta, smaller, elda condo!” the little dragon chirped. Bilbo gazed at Legolas with amazement as she trotted off and came back with a smaller stick, much more suited to her size.

“Smaller!” She tittered as Bilbo took it to her, adding it to his bundle. She gazed at him with those large endearing eyes.

“Ontaro, valin?” she asked softly. Bilbo looked to Legolas for help. The elf smiled.

“She called you parent, and asked if you are happy with her.” Legolas turned to her.

“Parent, happy.” Legolas urged gently.

“Parent happy?” she repeated brightly, eyes wide open and a small grin turning up her mouth. Bilbo laughed for a moment, offering her a hand and she scrambled up onto his shoulder.

“Yes, Laurë I am happy.” Bilbo whispered quietly, scratching behind her tiny ears affectionately. A small thrum came from her throat and she nuzzled his neck. Her voice spoke in his head in that old voice but in the mix was the two words she had spoken to him, Ontaro and valin, and intermixed also with them was the word happy. Bilbo smiled.

“Yes, little one. I am very happy. Valin, little one.” Bilbo whispered sweetly. Legolas smiled at them, offering his arms out to take the wood from the hobbit. Bilbo gratefully gave them up and watched as the elf prince began to make a fire, the chill in the air starting to creep into Bilbo’s skin. He felt the dragon shiver a little on his shoulder. Unbuttoning his coat he ushered her inside the cloth and redid the buttons carefully to avoid her sensitive skin, not yet hardened with scales like Smaug had been. Her little head popped out under his chin and she nuzzled it for a moment before going off on for a few moments in Quenya to Legolas. The elf laughed and waved a hand at her, almost a dismissal.

“You can teach her words you know, that is what she was going on about. She wants to be taught more words. While I make us something to eat why don’t you walk around and teach her words?” Legolas suggested as he nursed the fire to burning. Bilbo grinned, as he was more than eager to accept that task.

“Well then, I shall have to teach you of the earth and trees little one, hm?” Bilbo asked her, although he knew she had no clue what he said. Taking a moment he paused next to a tree, resting a palm and looking up to its murky boughs. He let a smile grace his face as a leaf fell down onto his arm. He fetched it with his other hand and held it to her nose, letting her examine it to her content.

“Leaf.” Bilbo mentioned, and was pleased when she promptly repeated it upwards of a dozen times. He patted the tree and repeated its name. The next short while went like this, he would find an object and tell her the name, and she would slowly start threading together small words. She picked up words quickly; she was extremely intelligent and fond of learning. At one point he held his hands up, one over the other and said the word ‘on’, repeating the motion. She placed her chin on his shoulder.

“On parent.” She giggled. Bilbo smiled.

“Yes, you are.” He laughed, looking over to the elf prince who was watching them fondly. And that night Bilbo slept peacefully, without tears, without shame or fear. The next few days passed like this pleasantly, and already little Laurëwas speaking like a toddler as Legolas taught her how to speak properly and Bilbo taught her the things of the world. They made a good pair of teachers, as Bilbo could not tell her how to speak fluently, and Legolas did not have the time to tell her the words of everything around them like she wanted.

On the fifth day, they reached the end of Mirkwood and the edges of Beorn’s territory; Bilbo was surprised that the skin-changer was there to meet them. He must have left before them and moved at a faster pace, for it looked like his lands had never been left.

“Little rabbit, your drake and you look thin! You too, elf-prince, come and I will hasten us to my home.” Beorn boomed, and also rather unexpectedly Laurë took to Beorn rather quickly, fond of sitting in his massive hand as he spoke lowly to her. Bilbo would hear them talking back and forth, and the bear-man gestured largely. Probably telling her stories of his lands, Bilbo thought. She was much too small to walk on her own any time soon, although she had grown a little and webbing was starting to grow in between the creases of her wing-digits and the fleshy spikes all along her back.

They made good time to Beorn’s house and were there on the seventh day. The skin-changer treated them to the sweet honey, bread and milk. Special for Laurë were some eggs that hadn’t the fortune of being fertilized. Beorn grumbled a bit about this, but this was his way of admitting that she did need a high amount of protein. He would not see animals slaughtered for her sake, but some eggs that would never grow to become chicks he would begrudge to her, and only her. Legolas and Bilbo made a great effort to show that they did not need – or want them. Bilbo was quite flustered, making sure to show how appreciative he was – for both his food and Beorn’s adjustment to the drake (whom they had been catching rabbits and small mammals for and feeding her those).

That night Bilbo was sitting in front of the fire, when a voice that was not his drake started whispering in his mind. At first he confused it with little Laurë’s voice, but then the voice took a darker tone and was whispering dreadfully possessive things to him. How the drake was getting special treatment and that he shouldn’t bother with her, to leave her with Beorn. Bilbo shook his head, vaguely remembering the ring still hiding in his pocket. It had whispered to him in the past, but in the flurry of the past week and a half he had nearly forgotten about it. He had meant to leave it with Gandalf since the journey was over and he had no need to turn invisible anymore – but now the wizard wouldn’t come near him for years to come.

“Little rabbit has deep thoughts?” Beorn’s voice rumbled quietly, well, as quiet as his voice could get. Bilbo gave a small nod as he held the ring for him to see.

“This is what troubles me. A magic ring I had found in the goblin caves. When worn, it turns the wearer invisible. However it also whispers to the wielder, when worn or not. The creature I found it from had gone mad, called himself Gollum. This ring is how I escaped death by his cold, unfeeling hands. I used this ring to rescue the dwarves from Thranduil’s dungeons, and to hide from Smaug. But now I have no use for it, and I fear its nature around Laurë. I do not want to see her become corrupt, and I fear this ring may try to twist her mind as it has tried to twist mine.” Bilbo explained slowly, turning the golden thing in his hands. He looked to Beorn, who blinked at him as if deep in thought.

“I hear no whispers from this ring, little rabbit. Why did you not give this to the wizard?” Beorn asked, puzzled. Bilbo winced.

“To be honest I quite forgot about it with the battle, Laurë hatching and the journey home.” Bilbo replied, clutching the ring in his hand. An idea began to form in his head as he looked into the fire, swearing he could almost see stories being told in the flames. He looked back to the giant man, who had taken a seat in a giant chair.

“Say Beorn, would you be able to hold it here for me? You say you don’t hear the whispers, and Gandalf could come here to retrieve it once Laurë and I leave.” Bilbo asked cautiously. The great man seemed to glower over at him.

“I feared you would ask that of me, little rabbit. I do not like the idea of this whispering magic ring. It may draw evil to my lands.” The skin-changer growled, although he did not seem angry. Bilbo sighed, knowing that would be the answer.

“But I will take this task. I can protect my land from small evils; I cannot protect the world from an angry dragon more dangerous than Smaug the terrible.”

~*~

 

They spent three days with Beorn, teaching Laurë more words and how to speak in sentences. She was an apt student and spoke like a young child already, although she listened better than she spoke. She would be a great scholar of a dragon if she wanted to learn the languages of the world. They left Beorn’s bee pastures in peace, laden with jars of honey and a new pack filled with bread attached to the mare’s saddle. Because of Laurë’s curious nature, they spent the rest of the way a bit more leisurely, teaching her as they rode upon the horse or walked at the mare’s side.

But all too soon the weeks passed by, and Bilbo blinked, suddenly recognizing where they were, upon the edges of the Shire. They had been walking along the road with their packs on to give the mare a break, and now Bilbo realized the other reason Legolas had suggested that for today. He looked up to the elf, only to find that he and the mare had stopped several paces back. Turning to face the prince, Bilbo gave a frown.

“I’m afraid this is as far as I go, Bilbo. You know your home from here. I apologize. I wish you the best. Fare well, Bilbo Baggins.” Legolas called mournfully. Bilbo gaped as the elf mounted the horse and they tore off into the distance like wraiths from the dawn. A small chirp from the ground brought him back to reality and he glanced down to the ground where little Laurë walked on her own by his feet. Her webbing had finished coming in, full broad wings and fins between the spikes along her back. Small round nubs had begun to sprout in front of her little ears, and along her jaws and that small horn on her nose had given Bilbo more than a few scratches before she realized she had to be careful with it. Scales had begun to grow on her belly – soft still but that they were forming was the important part. She gave a great few flaps of her wings and landed on his arm that shot out automatically for her to land on.

“Legolas gone? Why?” she mewled softly, tongue flicking out to lick Bilbo’s cheek affectionately. Bilbo nodded, tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he shifted the pack on his back.

“He couldn’t stay, he has a home to go to, as do we little one. Come, we must get home before dark, and we still have several miles till Bag End.” Bilbo replied stiffly, biting back the tears. He had to be strong now. This was his fate – to be alone in the world. He had been a lonely (if content) bachelor before the dwarfs; surely he would manage with a little one underfoot with no help.

With no walking stick it was a bit more tedious than Bilbo would have preferred, but after his adventure with the company it was normal. They made it back to Bag End just as the sun was about to finish setting, with Laurë tucked into his coat once again, just her head poking out of the top under his chin. Opening the gate, which creaked something awful, Bilbo sighed. Home sweet home, he thought dully. As he began to walk up the steps his little drake got excited and forgot his warning to stay in his coat – scrambling out and jumping to the door, impatient to be inside. When Bilbo’s hand came to rest on the knob and began to turn, imagine his shock when the door opened for him! Bilbo’s eyes were wide, his mouth agape and speechless as he stared at the hobbit standing just inside his door brandishing a gardening hoe.

~*~

 

Bilbo slumped into the chair by the gently rolling fire in his fireplace, old Gaffer Gamgee sitting across from him, Laurë in his lap.

“Sorry ‘bout that Mister Baggins, I didn’t recognize you when you were coming up the steps, all sad looking.” Gaffer said sheepishly. A young boy sat on the floor between them, hands playing with Laurë in Gaffer’s lap. The drake relished the game, as the boy put his hands up she was to try and tap them with a paw – if she got him they burst into giggles only to start again. The young lad was Gaffer’s boy, Samwise.

“I do not blame you, Gaffer. In fact I have to thank you for minding Bag End, I had thought I would come back and all my things sold off by those Sackville-Baggins…” Bilbo groaned, nursing a steaming cup of tea.

“Interesting little creature you came back with though, it’s amazing how fast she moved to protect you, all hiss and no claws.” Gaffer chuckled, stroking her back gently. She preened for a moment before swiping a paw and catching Sam’s hand, sending the young lad bursting into laughter.

“She’s one of the last drakes. Probably the youngest, now that I think of it. Her sire was a great drake with the power of enhanced dragon-fire. Smaug the Terrible was his name. He claimed the great dwarf city of Erebor. Recently it was taken back by the dwarfs though, that is where I went off to. I was helping them. Would you believe I had a battle of wits with a dragon?” Bilbo grinned, his Took side showing. Laurë looked at him with a tilted head, blinking her eyes in such a fashion that meant she was curious. He winked at her.

“You get your wits from your da, little girl. He was as smart as they come! Regrettably he was also very mean, and greedy. Nothing good comes of greed, just an empty life and a lonely heart.” Bilbo lamented. Gaffer looked at him with wonder for a moment before nudging Laurë gently. The little dragon hopped off his lap and jumped up into Bilbo’s, tongue flicking out to steal a taste of his tea. She made a face suggesting that she wasn’t pleased with her experiment.

“I really should be getting young Samwise here to bed; again I’m sorry I nearly hit you with a hoe.” Gaffer smiled bashfully. Bilbo waved a hand.

“No worries, Gaffer. Just do me a favor and don’t mention little Laurë here? I’d rather not have word that there is a dragon in the Shire. Goodness knows hobbits gossip and word would get out to men and all sorts of nasty things could happen.” Bilbo shuddered. Gaffer nodded.

“Sure thing, Mister Baggins. Good night.” And with that Gaffer hoisted up little Sam who whined a bit before settling, and left quietly from Bag End. With the crackling of the fire and the purring from Laurë, Bilbo nearly was lulled to sleep, before he shook himself slightly awake and noticed his little golden drake was asleep. He smiled and set his empty mug down to take care of in the morning. Acting proper could wait one night. He pulled the sleeping babe into his arms and went to his bedroom to find it clean and just as he left it. Changing into night clothes he slipped under the covers and tucked Laurë in the crook of his elbow. He’d imagine sometime in the time she would migrate to his chest with her head in his neck, but he didn’t mind. He had grown to love her on their trip to Bag End with Legolas, and however abrupt the prince’s departure had been, it was a good journey and good to be home. He only wished that he had been able to make peace with Thorin, first…But he would think more on that tomorrow while he settled back into a comfortable hobbit lifestyle. For now, he let sleep claim him with dreams of gold and gems and soaring on wide green leathery wings.

 

 

Quenya Translations:

Náto - Small

Cinta – Yes (or confirmation)

Elda condo – elf prince

Ontaro – Parent (masculine or feminine, I mean it as no-gender.)

Valin - Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes: I have adjusted my reference for Ilaurënda (Laurë) slightly, I have added mammalian ears. Changes can be seen here: http://valkyryn.deviantart.com/art/Ilaurenda-Reference-352875170
> 
> For a reference of how I view Smaug and where I drew inspiration for Ilaurënda's design, look at this fantastic and beautiful depiction of Smaug: http://rizyukaizen.deviantart.com/art/In-slumbers-deep-and-dreams-of-gold-353393063
> 
> Quenya dictionary used: http://www.ambar-eldaron.com/telechargements/quenya-engl-A4.pdf
> 
>  
> 
> I currently have outlines up to Chapter 11, with plans to go much farther than that. I will soothe your minds however and inform you that yes, eventually they will return to Erebor, and I plan to have the story continue on for a while after that as well. You will not be without this fic for a while. :)
> 
> As always, Ideas are welcome! I hope you enjoy this chapter of Ilaurënda - The Golden Heart


	4. From One to Two, and now to Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this installment of Ilaurënda - The Golden Heart! About 1,000 more words in this than the other three chapters - I couldn't finish it with any less and I am not about to skimp on the word count!
> 
> Chapter outline count is up to 13, and no where near completion at that that point still. :) This will be a monster of a fic, I think... 
> 
> Enjoy!

The next morning, Bilbo awoke, just as he had expected to with a drake nuzzling his neck quite warmly. He glanced at his shuttered window and saw the still somewhat gray light peeking through, it was still very early, more than enough time to fashion a properly large and hearty breakfast. His stomach gave a gurgle, and as softly as he could he slid the little golden drake off his chest, tucking the blankets and pillows around her in a little sort of nest. He stood at the foot of the bed, watching her sleep for a few moments. Such an innocent and peaceful creature, it stung for a moment remembering she had the potential to kill. His brows furrowed in thought.

'She will not become a monster. She will up to her name, and have a heart filled with kindness, love and devotion. She will have a golden heart, or I shall die trying to teach her how.' Bilbo thought with determination. He turned and silently left the room, leaving the door open so she would be able to find him in Bag End when she had woken. He went to the hearth (first stirring up a small fire with some kindling) and gathered up his plate and mug from the previous night, emptying them into the sink when he had gotten to the kitchen. He cleaned them, happy to find that his plumbing was still in prime working condition. Gaffer had taken very good care of Bag End while he was away, he would have to make him and Samwise something special in thanks.

Dishes clean and put away, he brought out a few plates and pans before heading to his pantry to take inventory. He wasn't expecting much, just the basics, but he ended up seeing nothing in the pantry at all except some cobwebs and crumbs. Discouraged, he sighed and deigned that he would have to go to the market to purchase food. He was glad that he had gotten some of his share of the treasure; it would take a bit of coin to refresh his pantry to the condition it had been before the dwarfs had ransacked his home that fateful night. Not that he needed his share of the treasure to continue his life in comfort, he had plenty of his inheritance and earnings from before the adventure to live more than comfortably for the rest of his life, but it helped. He would be able to indulge in some of the more expensive items he preferred without feeling a slightest bit of guilt.

His choice made, he gathered on a clean waistcoat and buttoned it up proper. It was still early, and winter was only a few short weeks away, the fall chill a cool bite as soon as he stepped out his door. He was not unused to cold conditions because of his travels with the dwarfs, but it was still enough to cause goose-bumps and a shiver up his arms. Tucking his arms close to his body he set out to the market, where even this early some stalls would be open.

Walking amongst the wooden stalls with cloth awnings to cover their wares and potential customers, many hobbit merchants were already bustling about their business, peacefully selling their wares. He went from stall to stall first, browsing the options. After a while he settled on what he would need after making a mental list, and arranged to have the merchants package his desired items and one would loan him a cart and mule to take the items to Bag End. While he shopped, he kept his ears and eyes open. Gossip was especially important amongst hobbits, and he had been gone a great deal longer than was appropriate for a respectable hobbit such as he had been. He doubted he was so respectable anymore, but his coin and conversation was just as good to the market as it had been before he left, so he was a little more at ease than when he had set out that morning.

He had heard some disturbing gossip, however. There had been some sightings of goblins and howling in the night that hadn't been heard, at least by Bilbo, since the Fell Winter that claimed his mother. This was dangerous, the only reason there would be goblins here…Was because of the Battle of the Five Armies, when the goblins and orcs fled the battle. Had they come so far out of desperation? They would find much prey here if so; the hobbits in the Shire were not equipped to protect themselves. They had depended on the Rangers before; they may have to yet again. Some hobbits had mentioned sending notice to them already, but Bilbo would send his own request on behalf of Hobbiton and The Hill.

Bilbo resolved that he would take to carrying Sting on his hip after this – he may be seen as more of an odd hobbit than his Took cousins for it, but he'd prefer that to seeing his fellow hobbits made mincemeat of for hungry wargs and orcs. After he gathered up his purchases in the cart it was piled high with crisp white paper covered bundles, alongside one brown package tied with white string. With a hand on the mule's shoulder he gave a soft sound and the creature began to pull the laden cart. The heavy hobbit to which it belonged followed behind, making sure nothing fell out the back and so he could take his mule back when Bilbo was done.

They reached Bag End in good time, and he could see thin smoke trailing from the chimney still. Good, he hadn't been gone too long that the fire had died down. He hoped Ilaurënda was still fast asleep. On their journey she hadn't the ability to sleep much past dawn, so he hoped she would be true to her childlike nature and sleep right on through. He still had to make breakfast after all. Well, he would have to make a lot of food; raw materials only went so far. He would have to make many types of dough to cure, pies and cakes, cookies and oh! So many things he hadn't had in so long! He should make scones too, perhaps cinnamon and also cheese scones? And he would have to make brownies and bars, ooh his mouth was starting to salivate. He swallowed and composed himself. It had been a long while since he was able to indulge in the finer art of baking and cooking, he would have to spend the next few days with Ilaurënda baking! He would have to see how good of a helper she could be, if she could bother to sit still. He could only hope her curiosity and eagerness to learn would convince her to sit still and help!

The fellow hobbit helped him carry his load into the pantry of Bag End, on the floor firstly. He would organize it after the gentle-hobbit had left. They got all his purchases inside and as he waved goodbye to the fellow and his mule he shut the gate, checking his little mailbox absently (there was nothing in there, not that he had expected anything. Gaffer had checked his mail routinely and he had a nice stack in his study of mail he had received while he was away on his journey). He was reminded that he was so send a letter to Kili telling the prince he had made it safe back to the Shire. He turned to head up the steps and nearly had a heart attack as he spied Ilaurënda sitting, staring at him in the doorway. He gave a yelp, glancing around to make sure no one was watching and rushed up the steps, herding her back inside (she gave him a squawk and a nip for that).

Once inside he gave her a glower, she had the decency to look embarrassed.

"Sorry, ontaro!" she chuckled, flapping up onto his shoulder and nuzzling his ear affectionately. He smiled and gave a happy sigh.

"You must be careful, little one. You can't be seen for a while yet. I have heard there are orcs and wargs here now…That means the rangers will be here too, and they can't see you, for the Rangers are men in these parts, and that means you cannot be near them. You know why, correct?" Bilbo asked her as he began to settle his pantry into some sort of order. She had at one point hopped onto a shelf and was nibbling on a piece of pork she had asked him to slice for her. He'd done it without a second thought, busying himself with his task of refilling his pantry in an organized manner. As she worried a piece of the meat in her maw she gave his question a long thought. She gulped down her bite and looked at him seriously.

"Because men would…use me, or make me like my sire?" She asked cautiously. She was getting on very well with her words; much like a young fauntling would be progressing. One day she would become a great fountain of wisdom, a flow of riches much more worth in value than the gold that the dwarfs of Erebor coveted. Bilbo gave her a nod, smiling.

"Yes, and while your sire, Smaug the Terrible, was an impressive creature he was not the kindest. In his greed he took more than he would ever need, and earned the wrath of many. As I have told you, greed gets you nothing but an empty life and a broken heart. You know why, my dear?" Bilbo asked her, settling a big wheel of nice old cheddar next to her. She gave it a cursory sniff before gulping down another nibble of her pork.

"Because greed will blind you, and no one will love you for choosing gold over them!" she chirped merrily. Bilbo laughed, rubbing under her chin fondly.

"Yes, darling, my own love nearly did that you know. Well, not that he knows I love him, of course. But all the same, he nearly threw away my love…I only wish that I could love him still, for he repaired his grievous mistake before he lost me completely. Alas, my heart still swoons despite our distance. If only he knew and returned my affections…"Bilbo sighed, settling the last of his purchases in the pantry. He stepped back, hands on his hips, and looked at his work with a proud smile.

"Now, come on my dear, we have a lot of baking to do! Now that the pantry is filled, we need to make breakfast and all sorts of delicious treats now that Bag End is filled by its resident bachelor, plus one!" Bilbo chuckled, offering her his arm. She scrambled over to his shoulder and onto his head, shoving her face in front of his nose upside down.

"Ontaro valin?" she cooed quietly, eyes filled with concern. Bilbo frowned.

"Yes I am happy, little one. Why ever would you think I was not? I have you!" Bilbo smiled, grabbing her off his head and holding her close (but not too tight! He didn't want to hurt the dear…). She gave a purr and nuzzled his chin carefully.

"Because you don't have the one you love." She replied, a little too keenly if one were ever to ask Bilbo.

"Well little one, I love you as well, and that makes it all just dandy. Don't you worry your precious little scales over me, missy, I will be right as rain so long as you are happy. Deal, my little golden heart?" Bilbo chuckled; depositing her back onto his head (he gave a small wince as she still did not have excellent control of her claws, much like a kitten, and gripped his head a bit too hard). She gave a soft croon, meaning she was obliging but she was not happy about it. He rolled his eyes to himself as he gathered up some of the things he would need for the beginning of his first baking day.

Laurë had turned out to be an excellent assistant in his baking, she was good at watching the oven and telling him when the object inside was done to perfection, whilst he busied himself without a worry about minding the oven while he mixed batters and other delicacies. They had spent three days straight making a great variety of goods (and eating many of them as well, he noted. Ilaurënda was particularly fond of snatching up stray bits and bobs that didn't make it into their main mixture). They made cheese scones with little bits of ham diced up into cubes in them, many different types of bread (ranging from plain white to bread with nuts filled all-round the crust), a few different types of baked bars (the spice bars were his particular favorite of this group of goodies, filled with all sorts of delectable spices and some precious chocolate chunks baked in to each bar), sweet rolls glazed with honey, and several different cakes including the seed cakes that the dwarfs had devoured so viciously so many months ago. They had made much more than that, filling his house with good smells and good food. But we needn't go into much more detail, hobbits were wonderful bakers and you can be assured that whatever he and Ilaurënda made was certainly delicious!

A week or two later of peaceful, routine living with Ilaurënda, he stood talking to one merchant who had an assortment of jars of honey and wax products - when he overheard mention of one of his cousins, Drogo Baggins. Excusing himself from the merchant (and not feeling guilty for it, as he had not yet purchased anything), he approached the pair of hobbits; two lasses, one who looked to be of Took origin, and then he recognized them. Ruby Took and Marlenda Brandybuck.

"The poor dear, what will happen to him now? I think Bilbo is still gone; his parents will said they wanted him to watch after the babe…He's still off on that adventure of his, such an awful thing. Who will take care of little Frodo?" the woman asked in hushed tones to Marlenda, who had tears in the corners of her eyes. So the hobbits of the Shire had not yet gossiped about him returning, despite his venture to refill his pantry after the first day. Perhaps they had expected him to run off again and kept it hushed up, or maybe they simply were tired of talking about old bachelor Bilbo. Regardless of the reason why his return was yet unknown, he cleared his throat. Both of their heads turned and snapped in his direction. Their eyes lit up.

"Bilbo! Oh you have returned, the gossip wasn't just rumors! What a miracle, please you must come to Drogo and Primula's!" Ruby exclaimed, taking a hold of his arm firmly but gently. As concerned as he was about what they had been talking about, he trotted alongside her as she took him to his cousin's home, Marlenda hurrying behind them. He would probably learn quickly enough of the information he desired. Quickly, but not soon enough, they came upon Drogo's hole which had a sign in paper plastered on the front gate, reading; "Don't Enter" in poor, scribbled handwriting. There were a few wet spots on it – perhaps it had rained last night? He didn't smell that much moisture in the air or see rain-bearing clouds.

Ruby opened the gate and ushered Bilbo and Marlenda through before shutting it behind her. She urged them to continue to the door, knocking on it. A slightly elderly hobbit opened the door, glaring out grumpily. He looked at Ruby and then at Bilbo before opening the door and letting them in. Bilbo remembered the fellow to be the doctor of Hobbiton, a wise if grumpy hobbit from the Proudfoot family, Gamin was his name.

"I was wondering if you'd ever return, Mister Baggins. Something terrible has happened. Drogo and Primula took their little one, Frodo, out on his first fishing trip a few days ago. Frodo came back…but he's awful scared, and his parents had written a will once the goblin sightings started. They wanted you to care for the babe if anything happened to them." Gamin explained, taking Bilbo's arm from Ruby. The two lasses waited just inside the door as Bilbo was led through the hole. He could hear sniffling and coughing.

"He's been hurt something fierce too, though it doesn't look like the goblins got to him. He says he'd gone under the water when his mum and pa told him to, and when he came up again he'd heard screaming and his parents were gone. Wouldn't say how he got hurt. I sent some of the Tooks to look at the boat and it was pulled up to the shore, broken up and bloodied. There weren't anything left of them." Gamin frowned deeply. He paused in front of a door, glancing at Bilbo.

"You're his guardian now, Mister Baggins. I think he needs someone to talk to that he trusts. He won't talk to me." The older hobbit grumbled sourly. Bilbo nodded and Gamin quietly stepped back, allowing Bilbo room to open up the door. He opened it a crack at first, just ducking his head inside. The sniffles stopped, although the coughs continued, muffled behind an arm likely.

"Frodo? It's me…Bilbo. You remember old Bilbo, right?" he called softly, looking at the dark haired and blue eyed child mournfully. He spotted a bandage wrapped round his head with a spatter of red leaking through the top, and he had snot and tears running down his face.

"Oh my boy…" Bilbo gasped, opening the door and rushing to the fauntling's side. The boy cringed away from him and ducked under his sheets with a muted 'Go 'way!'

"Now lad that is no proper way to speak to someone." Bilbo said sternly, and the boy's eyes popped up over the edge of the sheets for a moment.

"Now, what has got you so frightened my lad?" Bilbo asked, while his stern tone was still present, it was softened a great deal.

"Mama and Pa were killed on the river…" the boy replied, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks. Bilbo raised a hand and smoothed back the boy's hair delicately.

"They told me to swim down the water…So I did. When I came back up I was far down cause the water'd pushed me away. I could see Mama and Pa getting eated by the monsters…Mama was screaming and Pa was yelling for them to leave her alone…I tried to scream but I got water in my mouth and started to choke…I swam to the shore and spat out the water, then ran for home. The monsters didn't follow me…so when I got home I came in and went to bed…I woke up and it wasn't a nightmare, so I went to Ruby's and she and old Gamin have been taking care of me since…" the boy explained slowly between coughing, hiccups and bursts of crying. Bilbo opened his arms and the young hobbit crawled into them, burrowing his face into Bilbo's neck. He rubbed the poor lad's back and hushed him gently; trying to soothe the shakes the boy was continuing to give.

"Ruby said Ma and Pa want you to take care of me… not them, I wanna go with you, Bilbo… Please? I don't wanna be here anymore…" Frodo hiccupped, curling into an even tighter ball of miserable fauntling.

"Of course, my dear boy, whatever you wish…Anything you wish at all." Bilbo replied, tears coming to his eyes, and he tried fiercely to prevent them dropping. He failed, and the tears fell into the black curly locks tucked under his chin. He gathered up the boy closer and over his hip, the boy's leg curled around his stomach tightly – a bit too tight but Bilbo didn't bother to mention it. He left the room, not bothering to shut the door, and was not surprised to find that Gamin had returned to the entryway with Ruby and Marlenda, talking in soft tones.

"Ruby, Marlenda dears, would you be so kind as to gather some of young master Frodo's clothing and belongings? He's going to be moving in with me today…You can spend however long you like and if you want to acquisition new things for him I will be more than happy to reimburse you in full and then some. Anything for the lad…" Bilbo requested quietly, as Frodo had fallen asleep from exhaustion after the short fit. Both lasses nodded grimly, and Gamin opened the door for Bilbo.

"I'll have some tonics and remedies sent with the lasses when they deliver his things, he's like to develop an illness after his dip into the river and being in wet clothes for an entire night, not to mention inhaling water…I would keep a close eye on him Mister Bilbo. I'll be available if you need me to come see him." Gamin mentioned gruffly, giving Bilbo a supportive pat on the back, sending him out the door.

"Thank you very much, Mister Gamin. I will keep you aware of his condition. I shall be watching him like a hawk does a field mouse." Bilbo replied stiffly. It was getting chilly out, as he had left for the market rather late in the afternoon and it was now nearing time for dinner. He supposed dinner would be delayed as he settled his new young hobbit. He hurried home rather briskly, though as smooth as he could manage with the fauntling on his hip, for he did not want to wake the dear if he didn't have to.

He quietly entered Bag End, locking the front door and heading straight for his bedroom. He would not let Frodo out of his sight until he was either done being ill, or no illness came to pass. Not to mention he wanted to be at the youngling's side should a nightmare crop up. He found Ilaurënda lying in a nest of furs he had sewn himself, soft rabbits fur made into a bowl-like shape and a soft green blanket lay over the top of it. He had gotten the furs that first day back, and sewn them up the second night and presented it to her the third day after they had baked. On their seventh day a package was left in front of his door and he opened it to find it was a plush green blanket that he had commissioned from particularly talented younger hobbit lass, who was more than happy to make the beautiful blanket. It was a soft grass green, with golden embroidery along the edges in intricate knots and weaves, and in the center was a beautifully embroidered scene of Bag End with the sun high above it. It was not a solid picture either, as the color of the blanket was the color of the grass on The Hill.

When he presented this second gift to the little drake, she had been beside herself with joy and lathered him with silly little dragon kisses, flicking her tongue all about his cheeks. She had surprised him the next day with a crudely shaped piece of bark slightly wider than two hands across and one hand tall; with lines scratched into the inside smooth side drawn in a childlike likeness of her and him sitting under the sun. Now there was no color, but Bilbo beamed at the gift all the same and set it fondly on the mantle place above the hearth, leaning back against the wall so it would not fall down and into the fire.

He withdrew himself from his memories and gently nudged her aside with one hand, just enough that he could get Frodo under the warm blankets without bothering her. Alas, she awoke and watched as he tucked in the young hobbit curiously.

"Who is he, Ontaro?" she asked quietly, bless her heart.

"He is your new cousin, little heart. He recently lost his parents, and will be coming to live with us. Now, I want you to watch him for me, and let me know when he wakes. He should not be scared to see you, so long as you purr like you tend to do and cuddle up to him very politely and warmly. He is young yet and will be more than happy to have a warm thing to snuggle with. I will be making dinner, and he should awake by the time dinner is ready. Alright, my heart?" Bilbo whispered, petting his cousin's hair – although he supposed he would call him nephew from now on. Ilaurënda gave a silent nod and curled up under one of his arms, using a wing to tug her blanket over the both of them.

"Okay, Ontaro. I'll watch him, I'll keep him safe!" she cooed in a near silent voice. Bilbo smiled and gave her a scratch behind the nubs where her horns had just began to bud, the skin splitting and releasing earth brown bone the same color as the spade upon her tail and the claws upon her fingers and toes. She had four similar nubs beginning on each underside of her lower jaw. Bilbo smiled at her and tucked her blanket in around them a bit more before heading to the kitchen.

The night passed uneventfully, as Frodo did not even wake for dinner or supper. Bilbo was a little miffed but he brought food back for Laurë and she ate at the edge of the bed while Bilbo watched Frodo. When time came for bed Frodo had still not woken. This worried Bilbo some, but the boy was probably ill, and very tired, so he let it go unmentioned as he changed into his night clothes and tucked in next to the young hobbit, with Ilaurënda on his left side and Frodo on his right, Ilaurënda's blanket thrown over all three of them.


	5. Anything At All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm now over 15k words, yay! <3
> 
> This chapter was surprisingly easy for me to write once I sat down to do so, for which I am glad.  
> I hope you enjoy this new chapter of Ilaurënda - The Golden Heart,
> 
> As always, suggestions and ideas are welcome, when I mention an idea I will refer back to the user who suggested it to provide credit! If i have forgotten to credit you just drop me a comment and I shall fix it as soon as I can. :)
> 
> Detailed version of Ilaurënda, including her sizes during certain ages compared to Bilbo and Thorin for reference.  
> http://valkyryn.deviantart.com/art/Ilaurenda-detailed-355355656
> 
> If you've done fanart, please let me know, it would make me insanely giddy and giggly if I had it, written or drawn, anything! <3<3<3
> 
> The first section encased by the '~'s is a dream sequence, just so no one is confused. :)

~Water was everywhere, all around and all powerful though he was not crushed. Blue became stained with red, the tendrils licking his face with malice. He waved his arms, seeking desperately to flee from this nightmare. Shadows were above him, he could hear dull screams through the water, and he was helpless to flounder and watch as the larger shadows attacked the smaller ones. A howl ripped through the air, eerily real, and he gasped, choking on the red water seeking to smother him. He began to flail, trying to swim, trying to get away, to help or to be safe. The water pushed him and pressed him harshly against a sunken stone, he choked and grabbed on, trying to pull himself back to air and away from this sickening red slurry. His hand broke the surface of the water, and he felt the light leave his eyes as he tried to get his head above water. The last he saw was a shadow of a hand reaching for him…~

“NO!” a small voice cried loudly, and Bilbo was startled awake rather quickly. He found Frodo had already scrambled out of bed and was in one corner of the room sobbing, hiding behind his chest filled with his trinkets from the adventure. His heart ached for a moment until he noticed Ilaurënda next to him and mewling softly. Quietly, Bilbo shucked the sheets off of him and padded over to the frightened young hobbit. Bilbo could hear the roar of thunder many miles off. He saw Frodo flinch harshly.

“Frodo…Did you have a nightmare?” Bilbo asked gently, resting a hand securely on the lads shoulder. The only response he got was incoherent mumbling and more sobs. Ilaurënda looked up to Bilbo and for a moment he lost himself in her entrancing eyes, before backing up a step. She looked back to Frodo and wormed her muzzle in between his legs and arms (which were clutched up tightly, mind you). Another roll of thunder and a clear flash of lightning through the cracks in his window’s shutters, and Ilaurënda was curled up in Frodo’s arms, looking very much like a comfortable house cat. Bilbo smiled forlornly, sitting down on his knees to watch patiently.

Ilaurënda lay there in his arms for a long time, so long that Bilbo had begun to doze despite the thunder rumbling every few moments, until a piercing howl broke through the night. Bilbo startled into awareness at the pair of shrieks that followed. He found himself hurrying over to the two young creatures and hauling them up into his arms as he bundled the three of them back up under the thick covers of the bed. Rather unceremoniously he pulled the comforter completely over their heads, blanketing them in darkness and a false sense of security. He held his arms open and both young hobbit and young drake crawled into his welcoming embrace.

“Hush now… Everything will be alright my darlings…” Bilbo whispered soothingly, one hand petting Frodo’s hair and the other smoothing over Ilaurënda’s leathery wing membranes. One of Ilaurënda’s paws reached over Bilbo’s legs and he smiled as he saw Frodo’s hand reach out promptly to clutch it securely. Another howl rent the air, followed by a frighteningly close boom of thunder. Frodo and Laurë both let out little screams at the sounds. The empathy Ilaurënda was showing was incredible, and Bilbo was sure that she was going to become a great and powerful drake one day, in a much more ideal fashion than her sire had been.

For what seemed like hours, but was probably only one, they sat there under the protection of their thick blankets and encircled in each other’s arms. Ilaurënda would whimper and mewl almost constantly, and Frodo would sniffle and yelp anytime he heard a noise louder than her or their breathing. After a little while of consistent silence, it was broken with laughter.

Why laughter? Because the silence was broken by the sound of a rather loud grumbling tummy, to which Frodo cried in embarrassment and wrapped his arms tightly round his middle. Ilaurënda gave a small chitter which was obviously a giggle, and Bilbo smiled, patting his nephew’s head gently.

“The storm seems to have passed, my children. Come, why don’t we get something to settle our stomachs and our hearts?” Bilbo suggested, waiting patiently for Frodo’s nod before slowly drawing back the comforter and revealing thin beams of moonlight on them all, seemingly quite bright until their eyes adjusted. Bilbo guessed it was about three in the morning, far too early to be awake! But nightmares were no thing to brush aside, and frightened children were a mess to deal with in the best of times.

With Ilaurënda on his shoulder and one of Frodo’s hands grasping his tightly, they went to the kitchen where Bilbo lit the oven with some wood that would burn long and slow, once he got it started. He didn’t need it to be extremely hot, just enough to warm up some of the cheese and ham scones and perhaps make some scrambled eggs to tide them over till breakfast. As he looked at the drowsy younglings he scrapped the idea of eggs. Those would wait till proper morning. Instead he set out three plates and cups, pouring chilled milk for the younglings with an honest amount of wine for himself. Then he set the scones to bake for a few minutes over the warm fire, just a few moments. The house was a bit chilly so he would let the oven continue to bake with nothing in it to warm the house some.

After eating their scones (Laurë ate one, Frodo had two and Bilbo had four) and downing their drinks, Bilbo loaded their dishes into the sink to clean later, mainly due to the fact Ilaurënda was now asleep on the table top and Frodo’s head was dipping every few moments. Food was the best way to calm a frantic fauntling and Frodo was no exception. The young lad was just unlucky in that he was seeing hard times, extremely hard times.

He gathered the both of them in his arms; well Ilaurënda was half draped over his right shoulder while Frodo clung to his side sleepily, and walked them back to his bedroom. He laid Frodo down and set Ilaurënda on top of him before climbing under the covers himself, lying on his side with an arm draped over them protectively. At one point Laurë ended up cuddled in between Frodo and Bilbo’s chests, her head tucked under Frodo’s chin and her tail wrapped loosely around Bilbo’s arm, and her wings furled tightly around her body like a cocoon.

This was what Bilbo awoke to sometime midmorning anyways. And that was all that mattered, he thought as he smiled at his two precious charges. Today he would write Kili and Fili, telling them he was safe, and later that day he did, along with a missive to Bree to beseech the humans there to send Ranger’s to help protect the Shire.

~*~

 

Several months later…

 

Frodo gave a scream as he ran through the garden at full speed, glancing over his shoulder a few times as he ran along the cobblestones. Something was looking for him – someone? – And he was not about to let them catch him! He focused on what was ahead of him just in time as he leapt over a stray rake that had fallen over the stone path in Uncle Bilbo’s back garden.

He dove into a tall lavender bush that Bilbo had said he planted many years ago when his own mother had fallen to Orcs and wargs so long ago. Ignoring the scrapes he received from the twigs he buried himself deep in the good-smelling flowers. If he was lucky his pursuer wouldn’t notice he had dodged into the large foliage. He could hear them calling out after him a few times, also to Sam who had ran in the opposite direction than Frodo. The back garden was large; hopefully they would both remain undiscovered.

He pressed his hands to his mouth to stifle his panting breath as a few moments later he saw a glimpse of a figure between the branches, and he hoped they wouldn’t hear him. His blue eyes were large and unblinking as he tracked the figure’s feet below the lowest bearing leaves. He gave a curse in his head as he saw some dirt and leaves he had kicked onto the path when he’d scrambled into the bush. He’d surely be found! Well, at least Samwise wouldn’t be found then. Frodo screwed his eyes shut and prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice for his friend.

~*~

 

Bilbo stood inside, working on decorating a cake while the children were outside in the back garden. Samwise had come over for a while so assured that the slightly older hobbit child would be able to watch Frodo and Ilaurënda, he’d sent them outside to play while he decorated a special and secret cake. Ilaurënda’s birthday was soon, it had been nearly a year since he had left from Erebor. He, Kili and Fili sent letters routinely, he got one from them about once a month and he sent one back in the few days after.

They were sending them through the very kind speaking ravens, who while they were not particularly happy to be flying such great distances, Bilbo treated them with much hospitality and they never complained. They enjoyed speaking with Ilaurënda as well, as they held much wisdom and loved the chance to speak with someone that wasn’t a dwarf, hobbit, elf or man. The ravens had set up a sort of aerie in one of the nearby trees next to The Hill. Bilbo made sure to tend that particular tree very well, leaving out food for the ravens once a day whenever they were there as well, as more than one was present sometimes.

In three days however, was Ilaurënda’s birthday, or perhaps it would be hatching day for her? Either way, Bilbo was happy to have time to work on her cake (although she wouldn’t eat this one, he had a special ham he was going to cook up the day before for her since she couldn’t eat the cake). Frodo’s birthday had passed several months ago, and while Ilaurënda was not very happy about it, they had a party for his sixth birthday at the big party tree. Everyone was more than eager to make it a big affair and spoil him absolutely rotten that day; everyone knew the tragedy that had befallen him. Ilaurënda had been upset since she wasn’t allowed to go – Bilbo was still nervous about her being in the back garden, let alone in the middle of a party with intoxicated and merry hobbits all around. He wasn’t sure when she’d be out of her impressionable stage, and she was progressing rather nicely in the right direction. Proper, polite and always had good manners. Curious to a fault, but she was a child, it was in her nature. She still made mistakes but again, she was a child and that was how she would learn.

Unfortunately, his peace was interrupted by a loud and high pitched screech. His shoulders slumped and he gave a groan.

“FRODO!”

~*~

 

Frodo gave out the loudest scream he could as the figure that had been hunting him discovered his hiding spot and promptly pounced on him in the lavender bush.

“I found you Frodo!” came the feminine, bell-like voice. Frodo groaned and flopped onto the ground completely, limp like a bone fish. Ilaurënda was on top of him, now the size of a small dog and more than capable of knocking the air out of his lungs if she tried. The loud steps of Sam came first then the bush split open as he looked down at Frodo and Laurë. Sam gave a wide grin.

“I was sure you’d have gone after me, Laurë! I was only hiding behind the wood stack, as easy as a pie on a sill!” Sam laughed merrily. Frodo gave another groan.

“You always go after me, Enda!” Frodo complained, glaring at her as she sat on his chest. She batted her eyes at him, smiling that reptilian grin of hers slyly.

“Because you’re easier to find, silly!” she giggled in return, poking his nose with one paw. He sneezed. She shook her paw in disgust and rubbed it on his shirt in revenge. He gave a sound of disgust before sitting up and forcing her to bounce off of him and out of the bush. He crawled out on all fours and brushed his knees and hands off after he stood.

“No fun, Enda…I’m no good at finding either of you! Sam you always find good spots when it’s me seeking, that’s not fair!” Frodo pouted, crossing his arms defiantly.

“Well then pick another game, if you think it isn’t fair Frodo. One that all three of you can play without screaming and scaring all the neighbors!” hissed Bilbo, bearing a wooden spoon and wearing a dirtied white apron. Frodo stifled a burst of laughter and it came out as a snort instead, noticing that there was icing on Bilbo’s face and apron.

“What attacked you, Uncle Bilbo?” Frodo asked before he began to laugh, unable to hold it in with the comical view in front of him. The funny part was that Bilbo wasn’t aware half his face had an icing beard and there were crumbs all over his shirt. Sam and Laurë were more concerned, Sam bowing his head in embarrassment, Laurë sitting like a disciplined hound. Frodo was alone in his laughter, and he slowly stopped, clearing his throat when he noticed Bilbo was not in a mirthful mood. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

“Sorry Uncle Bilbo, Enda surprised me was all. I didn’t mean to scare anyone…” Frodo apologized quietly. Bilbo gave a sigh, smiling slightly.

“I would believe you Frodo, except that every time you three play hide and seek one of you ends up screaming and alarming the neighbors!” Bilbo chuckled, lifting his apron and wiping his face of the icing he had forgotten was there. The only reason it was there was because the scream had startled him so badly the pouch he was using to squeeze the icing onto the cake had exploded in his hand he had gripped it so tight, sending the icing flying.

“Sorry Mister Bilbo, we was just playing was all. We’ll do something different after this, I promise. Twas my idea anyhow…” Sam mumbled bashfully, red creeping onto his cheeks and ears. Bilbo shook his head a bit and gave a soft chuckle.

“No need to worry Samwise, just go occupy these two rascals a little longer for me, will you? I’ll send you home with some of those raspberry tarts I made yesterday if you can occupy them for another hour!” Bilbo suggested with a sly wink when the slightly older hobbit’s head shot up with a blooming red blush.

“y-yes sir!” Sam sputtered, grabbing one of the straps of Frodo’s overalls and tugging him away. Frodo’s face was priceless.

“But Uncle Bilbo I want something too!” he whined pitifully.

“Behave and no more screaming and you all will get a treat! But no screaming, you hear? I want peace so I don’t look like a snowman in the middle of spring bloom! Goodness gracious I’m a right mess…” Bilbo started to mutter as he hobbled back inside to finish his work.

Sam tugged Frodo along who needed no more prompting after that.

“I know how we can apologize to Mister Bilbo, Frodo. Come on, it’ll be fun!” Sam promised, grinning widely.

~*~

 

Bilbo, a surprising peace-filled two hours later nearing sun-down, has finished the cake with a flourish and squirrels it away in his secret hiding place that the younglings don’t know of and can’t reach even if they knew where it was. He cleans himself and the kitchen up to perfection, and sets a kettle on the oven to boil for a spot of tea to relax with before dinner. He was a little interested in what Sam had managed to come up with that had kept the trio quiet for so long, but he was not about to spoil a good thing and he simply enjoyed a good cup of tea while it lasted. Just when he was beginning a second cup and a muffin he heard the back door creak open and two pairs of hobbit feed padding along the main hallway. He smiled and set the cup to his lips, drawing a long gulp from it contently, closing his eyes in bliss.

When he opened them he was rather surprised that the three younglings were standing in front of him, all three holding an object out for inspection. Speechless and nearly breathless, Bilbo smiled and set down his cup, kneeling on the ground in front of the two hobbits and one young drake.

In Frodo’s hands was a crown woven out of leaves and lavender, and a sprinkling of the little white flowers that looked so pleasant in the mix. Sam held a long necklace of expertly woven daisies. Laurë, on the tip of her nose, held a single glorious tiger-lily by the stem in her mouth. A crudely woven wreath of daisies was around her neck – probably her failed attempt at weaving with her tiny thumbs. She could pick up some objects but she wasn’t too dexterous with her small frame. Her tail wagged a little just before the spade, twitching with her excitement. Bilbo knew that tail could get-a-going if she was excited enough. He gathered the gifts, carefully setting them on the table and gathering the three of them into his arms.

“Thank you, dears, this means a great deal to me.” Bilbo whispered lovingly. He released them and gathered the flowers in his arms, heading for his study promptly. All three toddled after him expectantly, watching.

Bilbo, with all the tenderness he could manage, pressed all of the beautiful flowers into a large book he had begun filling with notes and sketches whenever he had the time to reminisce about his trip. Thorin’s map of the Lonely Mountain was tucked neatly away in the back. Fili had sent it with one of the ravens a few months ago, and Bilbo had been more than ecstatic.

“These will save nicely, thank you so much.” Bilbo smiled at the three of them.

“Okay…Now can I show you what I really found?” Laurë piped up, a mischievous grin on her face. Bilbo’s smile dropped in dread.

“Oh goodness what did you do Laurë?” Bilbo moaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. She bounced out of the room, and Bilbo attempted not to faint imagining what trouble she had gotten herself into this time. When she came back, she was pulling a basket along the wooden floor with her mouth. It had a blanket in it, and there was something moving underneath…She looked up to him pleadingly, and Sam bent down to pull back the top layer of the blanket.

Underneath was a pile of three squirming kittens, their eyes and ears barely open, mewls spilling from their mouth as they saw the light again. Bilbo smiled in relief.

“Now that is something I can handle and don’t mind.” Bilbo sighed, a weight off his shoulders. Laurë looked up at him sadly.

“We found them back behind the daisies, under a bush. Their momma was dead a few feet away…She was really skinny…There was two more kittens but they were tiny and dead like the momma…” Frodo commented quietly, petting one of the kittens with surprising gentleness. Bilbo’s frown returned for an entirely different reason. He knelt by the basket and picked up the darkest of the three, a rich blue-silver little tom that had a lighter gray face and dark tabby stripes all over his body. He was thin and mewling pathetically.

“We’ll take very good care of them, then.” Bilbo replied, settling the little boy back with his – as he checked quickly – two sisters. He picked up the basket and took it to the kitchen, settling it safely on the table while he fetched Sam his raspberry tarts. He gave the lad five, and gently ushered him on his way back home, as it was nearing dinner time and his parents ought to be missing him. He gathered up his ceramic jug of milk that was kept in the cold-box, a miracle invention. Gandalf had made it for his mother before Bilbo was even born, a wedding gift for Belladonna Took from her special wizard friend. Magic kept the inside cool like the chill of the outside during winter, but it did not escape the moderately sized box.

As the oven was still warm, he replaced the jug of milk in the spot the kettle had been and waited for it to become a little warm to the touch. It was rich goat’s milk, so the kittens should have no qualms with it, he thought. He poured some into a bowl and held one kitten to the bowl, as they could not walk yet. Frodo followed his lead and took another, while Laurë struggled to help the third, the little tom cat. All three drank till their little tummies were round and taut and they struggled to stay awake. There was still a little milk left so Bilbo let Laurë finish it off, it wouldn’t hurt her any. Frodo settled the kittens back in their basket and carried it back to Bilbo’s room, as both Frodo and Laurë had not yet the courage to leave their Uncle’s room. Bilbo didn’t mind that much, he rather enjoyed it.

Then Bilbo made the three of them dinner as usual, told them some of his adventure with the dwarfs and of Kili and Fili especially, since the brothers loved to hear about the younglings and Bilbo wanted them to know about them. After the story followed a small supper and feeding the kittens again, before getting ready for bed.

Bilbo had to wake routinely whenever the kittens started to mewl for food, but he found it didn’t bother him. Frodo and Laurë’s faces had brightened so much when Bilbo immediately took the kittens in. It wasn’t a bother on him or his resources to have some house pets around – he could hardly count Laurë as a house pet, since she was intelligent and talked, and they might keep down the mice that he had been finding as of late.

No, Bilbo Baggins did not mind this at all. After all, anything for his precious charges. Anything at all.


	6. Blood, Fire, and Dwalin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter out! i had a whole bunch of stuff come up over the week!
> 
> I hope the extra 2,000 words makes up for it <3 Also this new, complete and detailed reference for our little Laure!
> 
> http://valkyryn.deviantart.com/art/Ilaurenda-Reference-full-356853270?ga_submit_new=10%253A1362028748
> 
> Please enjoy the several twists and surprises in this chapter. ;)
> 
> The paragraphs between the -----'s is a flashback!

Several years had passed since Bilbo returned to the Shire, and Sting had not left his hip since he heard word from the other hobbits that Orcs had come to the Shire. After his second cousin’s parents had been murdered on a boating trip he had taken it upon himself to guard the hobbits close to The Hill. Any who needed an escort at night would call upon him and his sword that glowed…No, Old Mister Baggins was no longer mad or respectable, not when he had saved many of them from orcs during dusk, night or dawn and they had to be about.

It was wearying, but knowing the other hobbits were safe was reward enough. The presents he received regularly helped, though. Samwise and Frodo had grown incredibly close, both of them taking up wooden swords and pretending to be dwarfs, guarding the hole along with their now fully grown house cats they had raised together. Ilaurënda was still very bothered that she was kept indoors, although she would quickly outgrow his meager hole soon enough. She was already the size of a very large dog, and she had to mind her tail very carefully or she would be mussing up the entirety of Bilbo’s lovely home and all the things in it.

Bilbo Baggins was currently on his front bench, surveying what he could see of Hobbiton, the fields and the forests and everything in between. When he would normally be puffing away at his pipe and blowing fanciful smoke rings, he was now sitting sharpening Sting, watching it warily to see if it ever began to glow. The Shire as a whole now had systems in place if orcs were spotted, or if Bilbo’s sword began to glow. They had a series of the talking ravens who flew over the hobbit holes of where the orcs and wargs were spotted, screaming at the tops of their lungs. When hobbits heard this, they were to run to the nearest hole no matter whose it was and get inside and shutter the windows and doors.

He rarely let the children play outside anymore, and Samwise even rarer came over this past year, despite the bond between the three younglings. Bilbo just didn’t feel safe when he couldn't keep an eye on them, and he couldn’t escort young Sam to and from home every day, or even every few days. The hobbits of the Shire were very afraid, and no one left their home unless they had to recently. Rangers had come, yes, but not nearly enough to guard all of the farthings. One ranger had a decent amount of territory and the orcs while not particularly smart, they did know to avoid the dangerous guardians, and tended to attack wherever the rangers weren’t present.

Bilbo had befriended Aragorn, a young ranger, who was stationed closest to The Hill out of all the rangers. The young human did his job as well as one could expect for such a large range of ground to cover, and Bilbo helped where he could. The ravens were an immense relief to the hobbits, and the ravens were quickly building a large flock in the Shire. The dwarfs would send their own warriors, if they weren’t still recovering from the aftermath of Smaug’s destruction. Fili and Kili made sure to send as many ravens as they could spare, much to Bilbo’s relief. Each hole had at least one raven to watch over it, although some ravens watched over several holes that were close to each other since there weren’t enough ravens to pair one to one.

Aragorn was a rather friendly young ranger, and spent some of his mornings with Bilbo and Frodo before he went off to sleep. You see, these orcs were only bold enough to attack at night, so most of the rangers slept during the days and fought them during the night. So Aragorn would come over for a cup of tea or whatever else he fancied, Bilbo supplied him with a small meal, and he sent the young lad off for proper rest while he prepared to mind the Shire during the day. There had been one attack during the day so far, though luckily the ravens warned everyone else and a ranger had been close by, and no one was badly hurt or lost to the monsters.

They were becoming a serious problem, and day by day Bilbo grew more tired. He didn’t know what would become of the Shire if the orcs didn’t let up soon. Unless the orcs or the hobbits were wiped out, this would go on until the hobbits slowly disappeared. The peace-loving hobbits would slowly wither away under the sorrow and grief of being under constant threat and occasional death.

As he slid the whetstone across the perfect edge of Sting, he sighed, brows furrowed. He was becoming a wraith of himself. He barely cooked anymore, Frodo and Laurë did that. He didn’t write to Fili and Kili nearly as often, he didn’t read nor did he spend much time smoking his pipe at all either. He ate only three times a day rather than seven, and that was only because Frodo and Laurë forced him to eat. He didn’t want to be occupied in case an attack occurred.

But on one afternoon when Bilbo succumbed to his exhaustion, led to the bed by Frodo, his worst nightmare became real.

~*~

 

“Laurë, come on! It’s safe. I promise I won’t go into the water, I don’t want to after what happened with my parents.” Frodo called quietly, waving to the shy dragon insistently. Laurë’s head was low and her tail dragged along the ground behind her. Her wings were tucked as close to her body as they could get, showing her fear. All her horns had grown in, along with all of her scales. She was a beautiful creature, with bright emerald eyes. She slunk forward slowly on silent paws towards Sam and Frodo. Sam at least had the sense to look nervous; Frodo was practically bouncing on his toes. He always had been the adventurous sort of the three of them. Laurë didn’t like it when Frodo got like this, he always seemed to get them into some sort of trouble, and Bilbo got upset when they all got into trouble, especially her.

Over the past three years with Bilbo she grew extremely close with the older hobbit, who was now nearing his 54th year of life. She was bonded to him, had been ever since she was in the egg and had heard his voice. Bilbo told her of her sire, Smaug, but Smaug had never spoken to her. The only time she had heard Smaug’s voice was when he spoke a battle of wits to Bilbo. When she had heard this encounter she found she preferred Bilbo’s voice to Smaug’s (not that she had known who was who at the time). Although Bilbo didn’t seem to have aged a day since she hatched and saw him.

The only thing that had changed were the lines on his face from little sleep and stress. She and Frodo tried to get him to sleep as much as they could, but Bilbo was stubborn about what he considered his duty and often times they couldn’t get him to come inside to rest, or eat. She and Frodo had to cook everything now, and the only way Bilbo would eat was if Frodo took it to him outside, and even then he often refused the smaller meals that hobbits swore by.

Laurë and Sam followed after Frodo slowly, looking around warily. They really shouldn’t be out, orcs had been out in more force and there had even been an attack a week ago on a mother and her children! What could two young boy fauntlings and a young drake do if they were set upon?

 

 

And then they found out.

 

 

“Laurë!” Frodo cried, and Laurë found herself face to face with a large, snarling beast resembling a wolf, Sam and Frodo behind her facing the opposite direction and the three of them were surrounded by three orcs and the one warg, near the shore of the river. Laurë found herself crying out loudly, a piercing flute-like sound.

“D-don’t worry, B-Bilbo will find us!” Sam tried to say, but he was stuttering much too badly. The orcs were chattering to each other in some foreign tongue, moving constantly and circling them like vultures. The warg however remained a constant presence, growling and saliva dripping from the fangs. Laurë heard a yelp and saw an orc take a swipe at Frodo from the corner of her eye.

Something snapped in her and before she could tell what was happening, she heard a roar and she was in front of Frodo with her teeth bared. Her eyes were focused, bright, and a growl ripped through her throat. Another orc moved and she was in front of Sam, her tail curled around both of her young hobbits protectively. Her wings flared open and wide to appear larger. An animalistic sense had overcome her and she wasn’t in control of her actions as she paced around Frodo and Sam.

A growl came from the side and the warg took a step forward. Laurë gave a snarl of her own and leapt on the beast’s face, biting down on its neck and back legs kicking out with claws extended. She was still small, and she couldn’t deliver anything near to a killing blow to a beast this much bigger than her, but oh did she give it a try! The warg shook its head with a snarl and she was flung to the dirt, skidding along one wing, which stung painfully. Sam and Frodo had taken up big sticks from the ground and were attempting to fight back the orcs, who were scrawny and weak, more like goblins now than orcs. Laurë focused on the warg, who was much more dangerous to two young hobbits than thin orcs, using her flight as an advantage to pester and dive-bomb the nasty creature.

Time seemed to move so slowly, but she found herself much farther away from Frodo and Sam than she remembered, and much too close to the water. She couldn’t swim, not with her wings. They were made to fly, not to swim! Maybe the warg was aware she was a creature of air, because it continued to pounce and snap at her, push her towards the river. Her tail touched the water and fear consumed her, a deep welling feeling in her throat.

 

Wait… that wasn’t right, fear made her stomach queasy not her throat…

 

She opened her mouth to snap at the warg and gain more ground but from her mouth spewed liquid fire, coating the fur of the warg.

She was stunned with confusion, then the fire stopped and the warg was screeching in pain, running away from her. Flames roiled on the fur, sticking to it like a sort of gel. Its howls of pain echoed as it ran, forgetting its masters and the battle it had been fighting. Ilaurënda blinked slowly, closing her mouth with a small grin.

“I can spit fire…” she whispered slowly to herself. She gave a small, excited giggle, then shook her head and looked over at Frodo and Sam, who were crying out fearfully. Sam was on the ground, being drug away by one org while Frodo yelled out after him, trying to pull away from two orcs that held onto his arms. Laurë gave a cry and ran towards them – only to skid to a stop when a man appeared from nowhere, a gleaming sword in hand as the heads came off the three orcs that had been in the party.

 

\----- ‘You can’t be seen by men, my dear. You know why?’ Bilbo asked gently, sitting in his armchair before the fire, a daffodil in one of his hands. Laurë was curled up at his feet, sulking. She wanted to go outside!

‘Because men are greedy and cruel… and would want to kill me or use me. I know, Bilbo, but I want to go outside! I want to really fly, and I want to see the world! Your garden is so beautiful on its own, so what must the rest of the world look like? I want to know…’ she replied, sniffling with unshed tears. Frodo sat next to her, eating a roll slowly. He had gotten the both of them into trouble today, trying to let Laurë and him play outside. They weren’t punished, but they both felt really bad about disobeying Bilbo.

‘Yes, Laurë, I know. The world is a beautiful place, and one day you will see all of it. You will live much longer than I could ever hope, longer than the elves probably. You’re immortal my darling, you have an infinitesimal amount of time to see the world. You must be patient, though. Dragons are not kindly seen in this age, no matter how sweet and intelligent they may be.’ Bilbo spoke softly, stroking the petals of the daffodil. She had picked it for him in apology, from his garden. They were her favorite flowers, and Bilbo loved them too.

‘So for now, you must not be seen by man, or they will try to kill you, more likely. And I would be very sad indeed to see you dead. I’m sure Frodo wouldn’t like to see you gone either.’ Bilbo hinted, and Frodo looked at her, tears streaking down his face. That broke her, and the tears began to fall down her scaled face.

‘I’m sorry, da…I’ll listen to you. I won’t go outside, I won’t get seen by men…I don’t wanna die…’ she sobbed, and both Bilbo and Frodo heard her ancient Quenyan voice in their minds speaking rapidly. Bilbo settled himself onto the floor in between the two of them and pulled them close.

‘I know, Laurë…And by all the power I have, you won’t.’ –----

 

Laurë shook herself from the flashback as the man turned to Frodo and Sam, checking on them to make sure they were alright. Fear gripped her heart and that queasy feeling filled her stomach (not the fire this time, she’d have to practice with that later). Basic instinct and Bilbo’s words in mind, she dove into the nearest bush she could find, curling into a tight ball and practically hyperventilating. She didn’t come out, even when Frodo and Sam started calling her name. The man’s voice called out her name as well, and she cringed, somehow curling even tighter as she began to shake.

“Laurë!”

She gave a high pitched yelp as she was yanked by the tail from the bush, drug out into plain sight. The man’s hand was on her tail, gripping firmly but not tightly. His sword was held in the other hand, and he looked at her warily. After staring at him for a moment she shut her eyes tight and whimpered. Just like Bilbo said, men wanted to kill her! This man was going to kill her!

“This is her, mister! Please, don’t hurt her! She’s as nice as they come, she’s just scared!” Sam pleaded, and she risked a peak. She found Sam holding onto the man’s sword arm tightly. The man hesitated, but nodded and slowly sheathed his sword.

“Laurë you’re hurt!” Frodo gasped, flopping onto his knees at her side, hand hovering over a particularly nasty bite wound on her back right leg. Huh, she hadn’t noticed that before. Wait… was that blood?

~*~

 

Aragorn had been out on a stroll, it was still several hours until his patrol, but he wanted to take a walk along the river nearest to The Hill to relax some. Well, that wasn’t true, he was really scouting out the area but if any hobbits happened to be around, he was going on a walk. He heard some odd noises coming from far ahead, sounding like a mountain cat fighting its prey. He nearly shrugged it off until he heard the howl of a warg from the same direction. Drawing his sword, and suddenly very thankful he had chosen to go on this walk today as he hurried towards the commotion ready for a fight.

It had been simple, three orcs attacking two young hobbits, although there was no warg to be found. One was dragging the older boy off, while the other two had been trying to do the same to the second. His sword found the neck of the lone orc first, the young boy clawing at the ground desperately, not knowing he was being saved. The other boy noticed, as well as the orcs, and Aragorn moved fluidly to them, hesitating when they seemed to use the black haired hobbit as a shield. One of the orcs squealed and ran forward, brandishing its rusty dagger, and Aragorn deflected it easily, parrying and his sword went in a wide arc through its neck. The last gave a strangled scream and tried to run, but the hobbit boy dropped to the ground and Aragorn’s sword quickly severed head from body. Regrettably both hobbits had blood all over their clothes, but they were alive.

“What in Eru’s name were you doing out on your own!” he shouted angrily, his face stern as he stared down the two fauntlings. The older one gave a scared whimper before the black haired one pulled at his arm desperately.

“We weren’t on our own! Our friend is around here somewhere, she was fighting a huge warg! Please, you’ve got to find Enda!” the boy cried, pulling his arm and trying to lead him further along the river. Anger forgotten, Aragorn nodded and beckoned the other boy, following the black-haired one easily because of his longer legs.

Both boys began calling out names – there seemed to be three that their friend went by. Enda, Laurë, and Ilaurënda were the names they called her. Aragorn began to call out the names as well, observing the signs of a battle of beasts on the ground. There had definitely been a warg around here, but where was it now?

“Sam! There she is!” the younger one cried, pointing to a lithe, scaly golden tail with an earth brown spade at the end. Aragorn’s eyes narrowed as the tail flinched. With his sword still drawn, he stepped forward quietly and grasped the tail firmly before giving it a – well not so nice yank. Of all the things he could have expected to be at the end of that tail, a young dragon was definitely not one of them. He nearly raised his sword to threaten it, dragons of any age were dangerous, and if a dragon was in the Shire the lush fields would soon be doomed. It was his duty to protect the shire, and no matter how big those emerald eyes got and how pathetic the whimpers were… It looked at him for a moment before clenching its eyes shut pitifully. He hesitated; this was not how a dragon acted. Dragons were fierce and ruthless, unforgiving and devastating. They killed without mercy and definitely didn’t show fear, even at a young age.

Before he could sheathe his sword the older hobbit was latched onto his arm tightly.

“This is her, mister! Please, don’t hurt her! She’s as nice as they come, she’s just scared!” he pleaded, and Aragorn hesitated from shock. He wasn’t going to hurt it – her – but the boy hadn’t known his innermost thoughts, so he could understand the misunderstanding. He nodded slowly, eyes softening as the boy let his arm go and he slowly sheathed his sword. Aragorn inspected her for a moment, and spied several wounds over her body typical of a warg attack, including scratches and a very mean looking bite on her right thigh.

“Laurë you’re hurt!” the younger one cried, falling to his knees at her side. The dragon looked at him and then to her leg, and then fainted.

~*~

 

Frodo wrung his hands nervously as he walked next to the ranger, who called himself Aragorn. He was carrying Laurë in his arms with his cloak wrapped around her and keeping her out of sight. He couldn’t get the image of her looking so terrified out of his head. They had already stopped by the Gamgee’s hole and dropped Sam off to a very perturbed Gaffer. Bilbo was sure to be much more perturbed than Sam’s parents. She had fainted after she’d seen the blood on her leg, and she was too heavy for Frodo to carry so Aragorn had to. As they walked he hadn’t asked Frodo anything about her, just where they lived. He seemed very surprised to hear that Frodo lived with Bilbo. Frodo hadn’t seen Aragorn at all, but Aragorn seemed to know Bilbo’s name.

They came within sight of The Hill, and as ever Bilbo was on his bench. He seemed to look refreshed, looking out to the other end of the shire, away from them at the moment. Frodo wondered how long they had been gone, and how long Bilbo had napped. He would have to find out later, because when Bilbo caught sight of him with Aragorn, he was on his feet in an instant and shouting worriedly.

“Frodo! Oh good heavens what are you doing outside! Aragorn, please tell me he and Sam didn’t get into trouble!” Bilbo sputtered frantically, opening the gate ahead of them. When they were just a bit away he seemed to notice that Aragorn was carrying something. He had just been about to rush to their side, but he froze with a hand still lingering on the gate.

“Wait, what are you carrying – Oh… Oh no..” Bilbo moaned, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes as a bit of wind swept open Aragorn’s cloak. Laurë’s head was laid against Aragorn’s chest and her tail dragged limply on the ground. Frodo hadn’t noticed this before and quickly snatched her tail up from the cobblestones. He ushered them in and Aragorn hurried up the steps, and the gate was left forgotten open.

~*~

 

Ilaurënda had been laid out on Bilbo’s bed on her blanket from years ago. Bilbo and Aragorn tended to her injuries, cleaning out the bite wounds and wrapping them accordingly. She was still fast asleep. When Bilbo inquired as to her unconscious state, Aragorn had told him she fainted at the sight of her own blood. Frodo confirmed it. While Bilbo was not happy at all with his charges he could not bring himself to be mad at either of them or even begin to think of a punishment. This was punishment enough – for him as well.

He was still in shock that it had been Aragorn to bring her back home, a ranger and a man no less!

“Why didn’t you kill her, Aragorn? What stayed your blade?” Bilbo asked quietly, sitting on the bed next to her with Frodo in his lap. He had one hand on her neck, feeling the pulse there faintly under the thick scales. Aragorn sat in a chair at the end of the bed, ducking low to avoid hitting the ceiling.

“Her eyes, Bilbo. She showed fear, and from what I know of dragons no matter their age they do not show fear.” He replied simply, a worried look on his face. Frodo lay asleep on Bilbo’s lap, tear stains on his cheeks.

“Yes, she does have very expressive eyes doesn’t she? My dear heart…I should have been there to protect her.” Bilbo whispered guiltily, stroking her neck softly.

“Frodo said that she had fought off a full grown warg by herself in order to protect them. If she had been larger the rogue pack wouldn’t have had a chance against her. I found traces of dragon-fire ashes on the shore of The Water. She learned to spit fire, which explains why there was no warg when I found them.” Aragorn spoke quietly, eyes looking over the gold and green drake slowly.

Bilbo closed his eyes for a moment, wishing that he hadn’t let Frodo convince him to take a nap earlier this afternoon. Anything to get rid of this image of Laurë lying on his bed covered in wounds and bandages.

“…S…Sorry…D…da…”

Bilbo’s eyes shot open and met green eyes half open looking at him sleepily. He quickly shook Frodo awake and the young boy sputtered awake, murmuring tiredly before realizing Laurë was awake once again.

“Enda, you’re okay!” the young lad cried, crawling onto the bed and throwing his arms around her neck. She let her head rest on his back, exhaustion evident. She continued to look at Bilbo pointedly however.

“We were just going to play by the river…we didn’t think orcs would come out in the light.” She continued quietly, shame clear in her tone. Bilbo let a hand fall over her cheek, tracing one of the scratches over her right eye. She would have a scar or two there. The scales of her eyes weren’t completely solid yet, they were the last to harden of her scales. She would forever bear the marks of this encounter.

“My golden heart… I am just glad the three of you are alive.” Bilbo replied faintly, tears welling up, and he didn’t stop them from falling. His pride be damned, he had nearly lost both of his children and his gardener’s child today! Her voice echoed in his mind, a mixture of Westron and Quenya. The words were so jumbled he couldn’t make heads or tails of what she was trying to say, but he knew she was apologizing. By the way Frodo tightened his hug on her she was telling Frodo as well.

“I don’t want to hurt, Da. I don’t want to hide, and I don’t want to be killed because I’m a dragon. I want to be like you, Frodo and Sam! I want to be a hobbit!” She sobbed suddenly, and the sounds in his head suddenly made more sense. She hadn’t been apologizing, she had been crying and pleading. She tore herself away from the both of them and to the end of the bed, head hanging low.

“None of this would happen if I was a hobbit! I’d be your daughter and Frodo would be my brother and no one would care!” She choked, voice turning harsh.

“I will be a hobbit!” she yelled, looking at Bilbo sternly. He hadn’t seen that determination in her eyes ever before, but then again he hadn’t ever seen her attacked by a warg before either.

And just as he had seen those mythical green tendrils on the day she hatched, he saw them today. Her wounds disappeared (the two lines on her eye remained), and the tendrils began to change color. Instead of turning red like they had three years ago, they turned blue and surrounded her completely. Her form seemed to shift and warp underneath the mask of the tendril surrounding her.

Bilbo and Frodo watched on worriedly, and Aragorn had a hand on his sword apprehensively. The blue began to fade, and from behind the wisps showed not a young dragon, but a honey-haired little hobbit girl. She fell onto the blanket, and Bilbo hurried to toss the sheet over her with a bright flush to his cheeks. She was naked. Stark naked, and there were two boys in this room that should not see her anywhere near so! Bilbo snapped at Frodo and Aragorn and they were more than happy to leave the room, slamming the door.

When Bilbo turned back to Laurë, She was sitting up, the blanket held up hesitantly. Her eyes were still the same bright emerald green, and her right eye still bore the two delicate looking lines over it. Her hair was thick and curly, down to her lower back practically. She smiled at him slowly.

“I told you, Da…I will be a hobbit.” She said quietly, her voice small and sweet just as it always had been. She looked to be about Frodo’s age in this form, and what a perfect age to look. He could pass her off as a very distant cousin; she looked just like Bilbo, just smaller and female!

“My darling, you could have been more patient. I have no clothes for a little girl. You’ll have to wear boy’s clothing until we can get you in to the tailor.” Bilbo chuckled, rubbing his forehead with a sigh of relief. She giggled, and oh, what a bell-like sound!

“Sorry Da, I didn’t know it would work. I think I can turn into anything I want!” she exclaimed, nearly dropping her blanket. Bilbo’s hand clasped her shoulders, holding the blanket up securely. She blushed faintly.

“If you can be anything then why don’t you become a human or perhaps a dwarf or maybe even an elf? I know you adored Legolas.” Bilbo asked, wrapping her up tightly.

“Because, I don’t want to be anything else, I just want to be a hobbit or a dragon! I just can’t be a dragon for a while, I guess.” She replied softly.

“Well, I will go fetch some of Frodo’s clothes for you to wear until we can take you to get fitted. You stay here, and cuddle up with Dwalin.” Bilbo chuckled, a smirk on his face. The kittens they had rescued so long ago had all grown up to be very good house cats and mousers. Frodo had insisted on calling his gray and black tom Kili, after the dark-haired prince. To match Kili, Sam named the brown girl cat Fili. Laurë wanted to name hers after the cat’s personality. The tortoise-shell was rather rough around the edges and mean, except to Laurë of course. The cat tolerated everyone but her. So what did she decide to name the little girl kitten? After the grumbly and rough Dwalin the dwarf of course!

Oh Dwalin would have a fit if he ever found out a girl cat had been named after him! Bilbo smiled as the aforementioned cat jumped up onto the bed, curling into Laurë’s now hobbit lap. Dwalin was more than pleased with this form, nice and warm and soft!

Bilbo laughed quietly to himself as he left her and the cat in his room to fetch her some clothes.


End file.
